


Return to Blue Mountain

by wingthing



Series: The EQ Alternaverse [10]
Category: Elfquest
Genre: EQ Alternaverse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:43:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingthing/pseuds/wingthing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After awakening Timmain's elfin memories, Suntop must journey to Blue Mountain and unlock the secrets of the High Ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Broken Circle

“Fool!” Winnowill screamed as her sharp nails dug deeper into Swift’s shoulders. Waves upon waves of black sendings coursed through the Wolfrider’s veins. Still, moment by moment, the cold brightmetal edge of New Moon pressed more intently against Winnowill’s throat. “How much can you bear?!” 

Swift only glared down at the Glider, her lips pulled back in a feral snarl, her blue eyes glowing with lupine intensity. Winnowill saw the Wolf that was Swift’s soul lunge at her. It had her in its jaws and would not let go. Winnowill melted against the stone floor, her strength slowly failing her even as she poured all her soul’s malice into her black sending. 

“No, Swift!” Rayek cried as he caught Swift’s shoulders. “The pain is blinding you.” 

Swift didn’t hear her lifemate, didn’t feel his touch. She was lost in the wolfsong and the bloodlust of the hunt. She saw only her enemy – the black, icy soul that was Winnowill – Winnowill who had dared to threaten her cubs! 

“Swift!” Rayek shouted as Winnowill thrashed on the ground, trying to avoid the sharp blade. “Remember who you are! Remember what you believe in.” 

Swift snarled at Winnowill. 

**Tam! Remember!** 

Slowly, Swift recalled. No elf must die. Even if she is my enemy. 

She withdrew the blade from Winnowill’s throat, and Winnowill’s hands left her shoulders. Swift got to her feet and sheathed her blade. The choice between the wolf and the elf, the wisdom of Joyleaf and the bloodlust of Bearclaw. Once again, she pulled herself out of the rage she had inherited from her sire. But she felt no triumph. 

Her head was spinning from Winnowill’s sendings as Rayek helped her limp away. 

“You are wise, dark brother!” Winnowill called as she got to her knees. “You have just saved your dog’s life.” 

Rayek turned on her. “Don’t deceive yourself, snake. I saved you! And I’m not even certain why. But mark this, Winnowill. You may be able to twist and bend your own flimsy people like playthings, but you can never defeat our spirit!” 

Just then the abrasive hum of Petalwing’s “song” filled the Egg Chamber, and the bug flew down to fly between the lifemates. “Breedeeetdeee-deee! Softpretty highthings miss Petalwing?” 

“Not again,” Rayek moaned. 

“You!” Winnowill screamed, lunging at the bug. Petalwing replied with a spit of wrapstuff in Winnowill’s face. In a heartbeat, she was covered with half-spun webs. 

“You’re finished now, Preserver!” Tyldak cried as he swooped into the Egg Chamber, his arms outstretched as his wings beat the air furiously. 

**Tyldak! Where have you been?!** Winnowill’s mind screamed. **Catch it – Catch it you fool! It escapes again!** 

But Petalwing flew into one of the many ornamental holes and tunnels that honeycombed the walls of the Egg Chamber. Tyldak’s hands caught him a second before he would have crashed headfirst into the wall. 

“Flyhighthing too big for hole!” Petalwing tittered. “Go squash all flat! Hee hee!” 

Swearing profusely in oaths the two lifemates didn’t recognize, Tyldak flew off, hoping to intercept Petalwing at the tunnel’s exit point. When Swift turned away from the excitement, she found Winnowill was gone. The Black Snake had slunk off into the darkness during the momentary distraction. The Egg Chamber was silent again. 

Swift’s head still spun from the pain, and she sagged against Rayek. He held her up, his strong lean arms about her. “Can you forgive me, my love?” he whispered. 

“For what?” Swift gasped. 

“For hiding... what I suspected... what I feared.” 

“That I will die one day?” 

“I never knew with certainty... not until now. But... I feared. And deep in my heart, I was so glad when you said our cubs do not have Wolfriders’ soulnames. Because somehow... I knew that to be a Wolfrider was to be... mortal.” 

“I know why you hid the truth,” Swift said. “Bearclaw always said a Wolfrider’s life was short. Joyleaf’s death convinced me of that truth. But when I met Savah... I dreamed of living forever.” She laid her cheek against Rayek’s shoulder. “But I’m awake now. And the truth is good.” 

She felt Rayek’s tears on her cheek as he hugged her tighter. “Your father was wrong! He and his madness – they are what are short-lived. You will live long, my love, and all the questions,” he smiled wryly, “all those foolish, worthless questions you have dared to ask will be answered.” 

All the tensions fled from her muscles, and Swift melted against him in relief. “So... my mountain lion believes in the quest at last.” 

“You and your quests!” Rayek laughed bittersweetly. His voice was close to breaking as he pressed his lips to her forehead. “Yes, Swift. I believe in it – I believe in you! And come what may–” 

“We’ll be together,” Swift whispered. 

She drew back and looked up at her lifemate. Strange, in the eerie light of the Egg Chamber, her skin seemed paler, tighter over her cheekbones. 

As Rayek stared in horror, Swift seemed to shrivel up before his eyes. Her skin grew dry and lifeless like an old corn husk, and countless wrinkles began to furrow across her face. Her lips lost all color and pulled back from uneven, yellow teeth. Her hair fell limp and white across her withered, bony shoulders. Her bosom sagged and shrank under her vest, and her limbs shrivelled to skin and bones. The bright blue of her eyes clouded and turned gray. 

“Together...” the living corpse gasped as her skin flaked away and the lines of her skull grew sharp through the withered mask of her face. 

* * * 

Rayek sat up in bed with a cry. He struggled for breath as the sweat clung to his bronzed skin in a deathly chill. 

Swift was awake and sitting up in a heartbeat. “Rayek, Rayek what is it? Shh, shh, what is it? What’s wrong?” 

Rayek looked about, half-senseless, before his gaze fell on Swift. “Tam...?” 

He caught her up in his arms. “Ohh... I had a nightmare – such a horrible vision. We were back in Blue Mountain. And you... you were dying in front of me, withering away as your mortal blood devoured you from the inside out.” 

Swift stroked his shoulders gently. “Shh... it’s all a dream. My wolfblood’s all gone. I am immortal now, just like you.” 

“I know... I know..” Rayek breathed. “Agh – my head. It’s pounding like a human’s wardrum. Thunder and skyfire...” 

“Shall I call for Rain?” 

“No, no, just hold me, Swift.” He buried his face in her hair, and smiled to find it as soft and feathery as ever. “That’s all the healing I need.” 

Swift drew him back into the furs. The cold season had come to the rainforest, and she drew one of the furs up over his back to ward off the night chill. For a time they lay silently, listening to the soft beating of their hearts. At length Rayek released a long cathartic sigh. 

“I don’t know what spawned such a nightmare,” Rayek whispered. “I haven’t spared a thought for Blue Mountain for years.” He shifted against Swift, placing his ear against her breastbone to better hear her heartbeat. **It was so real... a perfect memory... until the end. It’s that Winnowill – it’s these trees!** 

Swift smiled wryly as she glanced up at walls of their tree-shaped den. Redlance no longer spent more than a moon or two in the Great Holt anymore – he and several of the elders were now living in the north at Thorny Mountain. But the massive banyan trees he had once shaped continued to lovingly grow into an ever-expanding Great Holt. 

**Don’t you blame the trees – you’ve been living in the trees for a hundred years without a fuss.** 

**Mm... perhaps...** 

Swift gradually felt the tension ease from Rayek’s shoulders. She continued to stroke his hair soothingly as he drifted back to sleep. Only then did Swift begin to wonder just what had prompted such a dream. Rayek so seldom had nightmares. His dreams were deep and sound. 

**I haven’t felt this... disordered since the Cry from Beyond...** Rayek sent. 

Swift’s eyes snapped open, but she forced her muscles not to tense and betray her worry. 

* * * 

“Oh, Vaya...” Shenshen murmured. “Your little Cheipar is...” 

Vaya shook her head. “I know. He’s a terror.” 

The autumn floods had begun to recede as spring came to the rain forest, and the retreating waters left countless puddles of watery mud. The two-year-old cub sat just in front of his father, slapping his hands into the mud and splashing it everywhere. The cub was covered from head to toe in a drying crust of mud, and he seemed to want everyone else to be equally messy. 

“Poke it!” Cheipar exclaimed, splashing more mud into the air. 

Skot laughed. “That’s my boy.” 

Shenshen scooted back on the moss-covered rock, just out of reach. “Ohh, he’s impossible! And I thought Yun’s childhood was just a fluke.” 

“No, all Go-Backs are this wild,” Vaya smiled sardonically. 

“Poke it!” Cheipar cried again. He scooped up a handful of runny mud and dropped the mess on Skot’s bare knee. Skot picked him up and sat him on his lap. Cheipar looked up at Skot with huge blue eyes – eyes he could only have inherited from Pike, despite his strong resemblance to Skot. Strange, how the cub could look as if he carried the blood of both his fathers. But of course that was impossible... 

And yet... 

A splash in the deeper floodwaters down the hill startled the two women. But Vaya caught sight of a large silver-blue tail and smiled. It was only Wavecatcher, Yun’s shapechanged lifemate. Originally one of the island elves who lived near to Savin’s pirate-tribe, the elf had long ago left the sea for the pools and tributaries of the Green River. Of all those living in and around the Grandfather Tree, Wavecatcher adored the flooding season most of all. He was hardly seen without his tail during the day, and only shaped it back into legs come nightfall when he joined Yun into their little beaver lodge built just above the highest flood line. 

“Rotten fish guts!” Cheipar slapped his hands on his thighs for emphasis, then crawled back off Skot’s leg into the mud puddle. 

“You are getting such a bath,” Vaya shook her head. “Both of you.” 

“No!” Cheipar whined. “Dung dung dung! No bath!” 

“Yeah, no baths!” Skot chimed. 

“I don’t know how you and Pike put up with those two,” Shenshen said. 

Vaya smiled. “I just have to deal with Cheipar. I let Pike deal with the big lump. Ah, it’s times like these I’m glad I have my own room to go hide in at the end of the day.” 

Skot stuck his tongue out her. “You’re just sour ’cause Pike and me are lifemates and you’re not – nyahh!” 

“Nyahhh!” Cheipar added. 

“Frankly, I don’t see any of myself in this little lump of bear fat,” Vaya cocked her head to the side. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say Pike and Skot grew this fawn in the garden together.” 

“Mmm, and if I hadn’t been there myself, I might agree,” Shenshen laughed. 

“You were there?” Skot asked. “Hunh. Now I know we had a lot of a dreamberries that night, but I could swear it was just the three of us–” 

“I mean the birth, rock-head!” Shenshen swatted at him. Skot lunged forward, caught her wrist, and pulled her into the mud puddle to Cheipar’s cackling approval. He slung the sun maiden into his lap and gave her a muddy kiss on the cheek. “Hah. From now on you’re our new favourite female lovemate!” 

“Ohh, I think I’ll decline that honour,” Shenshen extricated herself from the embrace. “I’m not too certain that I want to take credit for the next little monster you breed.” 

“Poke it!” Cheipar shouted. 

“Yeah, you defend your papa,” Skot said. 

Just then a certain auburn-haired elf appeared over the crest of the hill, and Cheipar pulled himself form the mud and started bouncing on his feet. “Papa Pike! Papa Pike!” 

“Fickle,” Skot muttered. 

“Aww, the babies are pwaying in the mud,” Pike drawled as he sat down between Vaya and Shenshen. “Amazing how fatherhood brings out the infant in him.” 

Skot seized Pike’s wrist and dragged him into the mud puddle. Unlike Shenshen, however, Pike did not resist in the slightest. 

* * * 

Suntop stared into the Scroll of Colors, watching the hues change in cryptic patterns. At his side Timmain sat on the floor, staring through the dazzling patterns of light. Suntop didn’t know what exactly Timmain understood in wolf form, or even if her wolf eyes could identify the images in the Scroll. 

Where once he had struggled to raise the Scroll and discern the shapes in its light, now reading the Scroll came as effortlessly as breathing. Though the Wolfriders did not believe in keeping time, the pirates and the Go-Backs kept track of the seasons by notches in trees, and by the calendar Vaya and Savin began, Suntop knew it was exactly a hundred and thirty-seven years since they had started the Great Holt. That meant it was a hundred and forty-five years since they had discovered the Palace. 

Some days it felt only yesterday. Other days it seems like thousands upon thousands of years. Perhaps in the end there was no difference between either feeling. Hadn’t Venka once said that there was no difference between immortality and the Now of Wolf-thought? 

So many changes had taken place in those hundred and thirty-seven years. First Strongbow, Moonshade and others had asked to leave the Great Holt and rebuild Thorny Mountain Holt. “Now, you’re our chief and our blood kin and I will double-knot the first tongue that wags against you,” One-Eye had begun when the elders requested counsel with Swift. “And under your rule we’ve had a stretch of peace like none we old growlers can recall... but...” 

Clearbrook spoke up. “This world... this rain forest with its floods and its endless heat... it’s not for us.” 

**Aye,** Strongbow sent. **Maybe the young ones can adapt, but to us elders it’s… as wrong as Sorrow’s End.** 

“We miss the white-colds and the new greens, and all the wonder of the true forests,” Moonshade said. “Swift, you must know we would never act without your will... but we were wondering... would it be possible... now that we have the Palace... for the elders to return to Thorny Mountain?” 

Of course Suntop’s mother had agreed. And Strongbow, Moonshade, One-Eye, Clearbrook, Redlance and Nightfall had left for the northern forests. Soon Woodlock and Rainsong joined them, eager to recapture their Wolfrider heritage. And whenever the white-colds grew too intense, or the small tribe of eight seemed too lonely, Suntop or Skywise or Rayek gladly flew the Palace north to bring them back to the Great Holt. 

“Send for me, Strongbow,” Suntop said when they first parted. “I’ll hear you.” 

He could hear anyone who sent for him now, anyone whose voice he knew. No longer did the Sun Folk need the Little Palace to amplify their sendings to the New Land. Suntop had become the conduit through which all elves could be linked. Any elf anywhere on the face of the World of Two Moons had only to cry out into the astral plane for help and Suntop would sense it. 

“You see, Mother,” he said to Swift years before when she brooded over the loss of the elders. “It doesn’t matter how our tribe scatters. Because the Great Holt is the hub of the wheel that connects all our kin. Thorny Mountain, the Go-Backs and their lodge, Sorrow’s End, the pirates on their islands, they are all spokes in a great wheel, forever spinning in an endless circle. And the Palace and the Grandfather Tree are the hub.” 

“No, Suntop. You are the hub.” 

Suntop smiled at the memory. He was the vine, the clear stream, the hub of the Great Sky Wheel, the living lodestone of his people. His head spun from the metaphors heaped upon him. And yet he could not claim he was not delighted by the powers and responsibilities invested in him. 

Pirates from the Islands came and went, trading with the Wolfriders then returning to the seas. Wolfriders returned to Sorrow’s End for sojourns, then came home to roost. A few decades earlier Wing had Recognized the sun maiden Behtia and fathered little Ember. Then some old friends from the Frozen Mountains, Skot’s brother Kirjan and Vaya’s brother Teir, arrived in the New Land, after making several-years’ journey over the islands of the Northern Passage. Teir and Ember soon became lovemates and founded their own miniature tribe, the Wild Hunt. During the dull summer months when food was plentiful and there was ample free time, some of the younger elves joined Teir and Ember on little seasonal quests across the New land. 

Suntop felt a pair of arms wind about his shoulders. **Mm... Malin...** Quicksilver sent drowsily as she pressed up against his back. Suntop smiled and leaned back into the embrace, even as he kept his eyes glued to the Scroll. Where another magic-user might falter in concentration in the sudden presence of his lifemate, Suntop’s concentration always seemed to be only increased when Quicksilver joined him at the Scroll. 

**Hello, Khai,** he sent back. 

A hundred and thirty-seven years since the Great Holt was founded... then it had been a hundred and twenty-four years since he and Quicksilver had discovered each others’ soulnames in a sudden awareness that rivalled the powers of Recognition. 

**What are you looking for?** she asked. 

**The Firstcomers... I want to try and pinpoint the moment when they first appeared in the sky.** 

Quicksilver laid her cheek against his shoulder and watched, her closeness willing him the extra strength he needed to pluck that elusive moment in time. As they watched, the colors in the Scroll resolved into images of chaos and death. The little trolls that had lived as the Firstcomers’ pets rebelled, breaking the navigators’ concentration and causing the Palace to crash. The cocooned cone-headed High Ones were ripped out of wrapstuff and slaughtered. The Palace disappeared in a burst of light as it was hurled back in time. 

Suntop closed his eyes, and his lips began to move as he whispered words that called across the vast gulf of time. Quicksilver leaned closer to hear. On the floor, Timmain whined anxiously. 

“In those days.... in those days we were barely aground, as we called it. We changed our shape as often as we changed our minds. And we were far more concerned with function – with purpose – than form.” 

Now Suntop seemed to be losing focus. The strain in his face told Quicksilver that he had only the most tenuous hold on the moment. The Scroll was clouding over again into hazy light. 

“Linked minds... the guiders... a circle...” Suntop whispered. 

**Concentrate, Malin... you can do it.** 

“It took nine of us to create the circle…” he resumed. The Scroll began to resolve itself. Now Suntop spoke with greater clarity in his voice. “Kalil was motion, propelling us through space.” A dark-haired male elf appeared in the Scroll. “Kaslen was our ship, protecting us through space.” Now a female with auburn hair and copper eyes took Kalil’s place. “Adya was our eyes, choosing where we would go.” A blond male, young, oddly reminiscent of Suntop. “Sefra was our time keeper, knowing when we should go.” A silver-haired female. “Aerth was our ears, knowing why we should go. Deir was our balance, giving order to all our choices. Haken was our passion, driving us forward. Gibra was caution, holding us back. We moulded our very flesh to serve each purpose. And as with a long-discarded garment, it was sometimes hard to recall which shape we had worn, eons before. We were prepared to change shape… as fit our journeys. But we were not prepared for this. Searing, wrenching, uncontrollable pain. We all felt it. And perhaps we needed to, for we had forgotten that we could die. I am Timmain, and it was my purpose to remember… everything.” 

Quicksilver drew in a sharp breath. She glanced down at the wolf at her side. 

Timmain was shaking her head, as if trying to shake a sneeze. 

“It was my purpose... to remember...” Suntop continued, lost in the trance. “Haken was our passion, driving us forward. Haken... our passion... driving us forward... forward... off course... into chaos... and blood.” 

**Suntop?** Quicksilver frowned at the disorder that had taken over the Scroll. 

Timmain began to whine and whinge. She turned away and raced into the corner of the Scroll Chamber, her tail tucked between her legs. 

“Haken was our passion... was our passion... the Circle of Nine... Timmain, Kaslen, Kalil, Adya, Sefra, Aerth... Deir... Gibra... Haken – Haken! Haken! Haken was our – is our – chaos – blood!” 

As Quicksilver watched, a tall, dark-haired elf appeared in the Scroll. He turned around slowly, glared out of the Scroll, then screamed in agony as some unseen force tore his left arm away, spraying dark blood everywhere. 

“I push… you pull,” Suntop continued. “You push – I pull!” Pain was written across his features. “Another dance! I pull! I pull, I bite! Blood! I could not pardon him – no, no – no pardon for causing pain to escape pain..” 

Again Haken appeared in the Scroll, and again Quicksilver watched as his arm was torn away. “Causing pain to escape pain!” Suntop gasped. “The wolves left calm, content, whole. They had already forgotten. But I cannot. My name is Timmain, and it was my purpose to remember everything. Everything! Haken! Blood! Suffering – songs of birth and death. Suffering! Haken! Pain! Blood! The song – blood! But I remember! The circle is broken!” 

**SUNTOP!** Quicksilver sent, and her psychic shout snapped Suntop out of his trance. The blond elf swooned, and she caught him before he couldfall. “Suntop... lifemate, are you all right?” 

“I’m... I’m fine, Khai,” he whispered. “I –” 

A horror-struck moan filled the Scroll Chamber. The young lifemates turned. 

A long-limbed elf lay on the floor, shivering in terror. She drew her legs up to her chest in a fetal position and clutched her long silver hair about her naked body. 

“Timmain?” Suntop asked. 

Timmain looked up. Terror flashed in her golden eyes. “Haken...” she whispered. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“He’s not here... he’s not here.” 

“Who?” Quicksilver asked. 

“Haken! He’s not here. The others are. I hear them all. But I never heard his voice. I didn’t think on it – I imagined he didn’t want to me to hear... but I look and I look and he’s not here! He’s... elsewhere.” 

“What are you saying?” 

“The circle is broken! Nine there were and now only eight! And I remember! Blood! Pain! But he is not here!” 

Suntop bit his lip. “Great Sun! Haken is still alive, isn’t he, Timmain?” 

The High One nodded. She pulled herself against the wall, then sunk into a defensive slouch and buried her face against her knees. 

* * * 

Swift, Rayek, Skywise, Savin and Venka rushed to join Suntop and Quicksilver in the Palace. Timmain had not moved from her position against the wall, and continued to hide under her long curtain of hair. 

“Haken was one of the Circle of Nine,” she whispered hoarsely. “When we crashed on this world... we nine were separated from the others in the Palace. Adya was killed – the first one to die by human hands. We had no way of knowing if anyone survived beyond us. And so we turned to each other to survive in this... unknown world. But Haken sought a path apart from the circle. I tried to show the others the beauty of this world, the song of life and love. But Haken could not hear the music. He heard only the discordant notes of pain... and anger... and fear. I pitied Haken - feeling so much, so intensely. But I could not pardon him causing pain to escape pain. I could not. 

“Haken broke from us. He returned to the Palace and reclaimed it through blood and death. His fear drove him to believe in nothing but the power of his own will, and the need to enforce it. He thought to take us away, but I could see that his way would not save us – only turn us into creatures of fear and hatred. And so the other Firstcomers and I... we withdrew into the forest. But once more we returned to the Palace. I tried once more... how I tried to make him see the beauty in the songs of this world. But... he refused. He attacked us with his black sendings. He was so twisted by hate and fear now that he thought only of exerting his will upon us!” 

Timmain began to rock back and forth. “I had no choice. I could not let him remain in the Palace. I struck. I crippled him – I drove him from the Palace. But at what cost? What cost? The wolves – they left calm, content, whole. They had already forgotten. But I remember!” 

“You...” Quicksilver breathed. “You were what tore his arm off.” 

Timmain nodded weakly. 

Rayek scowled. “He only wished to return to the stars. He only wished the best for all of you. If you had listened to him–” 

“Rayek, shh,” Swift hissed. “If she had listened to him we wouldn’t be here.” 

“You don’t know that.” 

Timmain was still shaking. “Haken fled the Palace. And my heart shattered that day. He fled to the west, towards the horizon. We never saw him again. The humans he had brutalized into his servants drove us from the Palace anew, but we did not stay to fight. I had learned another way. And so I led the Firstcomers into the forest, and we learned the song of this world. We learned to recover the senses, the pains, and the delights of the flesh. We gathered all the lost Firstcomers together – all those we could find. Our tribe grew. Something that gradually developed into Recognition visited us. I shared such a bond with Aerth, but I could not be his mate. I belonged to this world, to the howls of the wolfpack. I returned often, shed my wolf’s skin, and rejoined my elfin tribe. But my thoughts turned back to Haken. All our thoughts did. Finally Gibra left us, taking her infant son Vol with her. She wanted to find him, to show him the beauty and wonder in new life. We never saw her again.” 

“Vol? Not Lord Voll of Blue Mountain?” 

“I do not know.” 

**Voll?** Suntop called to the Palace walls. **Lord Voll, can you hear me? Remember me – the sweet little child of Blue Mountain? Are you awake? I need to speak to you. Were you the son of Gibra the Firstcomer? Can you tell us if she found Haken?** 

Suntop was silent for a long moment. At length he opened his eyes. 

“Suntop?” Quicksilver asked. “Did you find him?” 

He nodded. “Voll... can hardly remember his childhood... or either of his parents. He says that his mother had golden hair and that he remembers learning to walk not on green grass but on stone.” He turned to the Scroll of Colors and it sprang to life with an image of Haken, not tall and proud as before, but scowling in the shadows, clutching a heavy black fur to the mangled stump that remained of his arm. As the elves watched, Haken’s face grew rounder and fairer. His golden eyes turned dark gray, and his features grew feminine. The black fur grew into a long dress that concealed long, elegant limbs. 

“Winnowill...” Rayek breathed. “Of course. She gave me a vision of what I could become as a High One... if I abandoned Swift and joined with her instead. In it I looked rather like Haken.” 

Swift shuddered. “So Haken was her father.” 

Suntop searched the Scroll desperately. “I can’t see him anymore. I’ve lost him.” 

“But surely we should be able to see him in the Scroll,” Venka said. 

“Nothing escapes the Scroll of Colors,” Skywise said. “Right, Timmain?” 

Timmain shook her head desperately. “I don’t know, I don’t know.” 

Suntop let the Scroll halves settled back in their rests. He looked up at the Palace ceiling. **Winnowill... Winnowill do you hear me? I need your help. Can you speak to me? I must know – where is your father?** 

No answer came. 

**Answer, Winnowill. It’s important. Where is Haken?** 

At length Suntop heard a sleepy voice in his mind. **He went away... into the rocks... he could not stay... Mother went away, and then so did Father... and I was alone among many. He went... deep into the earth... deeper than I ever dared follow. That’s all I remember... can I go back to sleep, now, Suntop?** 

Suntop sighed. “Her spirit is too drowsy... she wants only the oblivion of dreams. Like Voll she cannot see through the fog of memories.” 

Skywise tapped his chin thoughtfully. “So the Scroll can’t find Haken after he sired the Black Snake. And the elves who knew him can’t remember that far back, and even Timmain doesn’t have the sight to see him. So... what are we supposed to do next? Suntop?” 

Suntop shook his head. “I need to sit down and think.” 

“This is all over my head,” Savin sighed. 

“Mine too,” her daughter agreed. “Agh... why don’t we just go to Blue Mountain – or what’s left of it?” 

Suntop and Skywise exchanged glances. And they both slowly smiled. 

“Hah, that’s my little girl!” Skywise grinned, turning to Quicksilver. “Cut right to the heart of the matter. Yes, Blue Mountain. Everyone seems to agree that’s where Haken was last spotted.” 

“Indeed,” Venka nodded. “As I see it, there are two possibilities. Either Haken died and his spirit went into the rocks as Savah’s Yurek did... which is why his spirit is not here. Or... or he is still alive, and he is living deep in the caverns under the rubble of Blue Mountain.” 

Quicksilver smiled. “So either way...” 

“We go to Blue Mountain,” Suntop said. “Yes... maybe there I could... see...” 

“Son?” Swift asked. “Are you all right?” 

“I’m fine, Mother. Only... my head... oh, I feel like I’m in a fog.” 

“Haken,” Timmain spoke from the floor. “He clouds us all. His way was of misdirection... overpowering... chaos... passion found in darker things.” 

Swift glanced at Rayek. **That’s all we need: our High One a few nuts shy of a full pouch.** 

**At least now I know where my nightmares come from. We have to solve this mystery, Tam. Or we might lose our bridge to the High One. And if Haken is alive... think of it, love. Another Firstcomer alive!** 

**Winnowill’s father. Don’t forget that.** 

**Winnowill was not evil... only unwell. It was a great shame she had to die before she could be made well again. But perhaps we might be able to draw Haken back from the poison of Blue Mountain without taking his life.** 

**Perhaps. Certainly if there is a chance.... We can never have too many teachers here in the Palace.** 

Suntop watched his parents’ eyes as they locksent their conversation. “So we go to Blue Mountain,” he repeated. “But who will you take with you, Mother?” 

Swift turned back to her son. “Not I, Suntop. This is your quest.” 

Suntop swallowed hard. He had not been expecting that. 

* * * 

The entire tribe assembled at the Gathering Place, the largest of the wooden platforms shaped around the Grandfather Tree, linking it to the other massive banyan trees nearby. There were twenty-six elves together at the Great Holt this wet season – including baby Cheipar and now shape-changed Timmain – but the number would probably shrink come the summer when the more adventurous set out on their own quests throughout the rain forests and the northern plains. 

“I... I’m going to lead a team to Blue Mountain and uncover this mystery,” Suntop said, trying to make his soft voice sound authoritative. “Will you all join me if I call you?” 

All the elves nodded without hesitation. “Of course, cub,” Rain said. 

“You’re our Palacemaster,” Newstar said. 

“We never would have our Great Holt without you,” Shenshen agreed. 

Suntop smiled nervously. “Then I’ve chosen my team for this quest. I choose... Venka: for her many gifts of sending and sight. And I choose Quicksilver, for her sharp mind...” and he blushed, “and for the way she can keep my silly head out of the clouds better than anyone.” 

Venka and Quicksilver moved to his side in support. 

“I choose Tyldak,” he continued, “for his birthright as a Glider of Blue Mountain. And I choose Ekuar, for his rock-shaping skills, and his wisdom as firstborn of the High Ones. Pike,” he turned to the howlkeeper. “You have a gift we often overlook.” 

Pike frowned. “Me? You’re dreaming, cub. What do I have?” 

“Your memory. You are by far the sharpest us the Wolfriders at calling up the past, even without your trusty dreamberries. And you were there at Blue Mountain when Venka and I were little cubs. We were too terrified to remember the underground twists and turns. But I know you do. Will you come with us?” 

Pike grinned and hurried to take his place next to Suntop. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” Skot stood. “You aren’t taking Pike and leaving me behind, cloud-head! We haven’t parted ways once since the Palace War and we aren’t starting now. Squirrel-cheeks needs someone to watch his back when he’s lost in that muck of memories, and so do you.” 

“Yes,” Vaya rose and handed little Cheipar to Shenshen. “And Skot needs someone to keep his head with his body. The three of us have always stuck together, in the furs and out. You take Pike, you’d better take us too. And by the Great Ice Wall, you’re not leaving us out of a quest.” 

Suntop laughed helplessly. “Go-Backs! But what about Cheipar?” 

“Shenshen can tend him, right Shen?” 

The maiden shrugged. “Do I have a choice?” And she smiled down at the grinning toddler. “Do you want to tree with your Aunt Shenshen for a while, little monster?” 

“Poke it!” Cheipar laughed. 

“You have to teach him more words,” Swift muttered softly. 

“That’s eight,” Vaya said. “Eight’s a lucky number.” 

“Yes,” Suntop nodded. “But we’re not complete.” He turned to Timmain, who sat near the edge of the platform, still cowering in her recovered elfin form. “Timmain? You I need most of all on this quest. And I know you need to see this through, no matter how you might want to lose yourself in the wolfsong. Will you come with us, High One, as an elf?” 

Timmain hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, child. I will come.” 

“Nine,” Suntop whispered. “The Circle is complete.” 

A renewed light appeared in Timmain’s lupine eyes. “Yes. We are whole again.” 

Ekuar walked over to Timmain and offered her his three-fingered hand. She took it and got to her feet. 

Suntop turned to Skywise. “Will you help me fly the Palace to Blue Mountain, Skywise? I think I need another guider in the Palace, especially if I awaken something in the ground.” 

Skywise nodded. “Of course.” 

Rayek scowled. **It should be me. Suntop has never faced something like this alone.** 

**Which is why he needs to now,** Swift said. **Neither of us are going with him, as agreed. This is his quest, not ours.** 

**You and your quests,** Rayek brooded. **He’s just a cub. He’s never done this before.** 

**Every leader is untried at the beginning. Besides, you would never object to Venka going.** 

**But Suntop’s not Venka!** 

“It’s still cold at Blue Mountain,” Suntop said. He glanced down at his scanty paneled loincloth, then at Venka and Quicksilver’s short leather tunics. “We’ll need something heavier than this.” 

Moonsbreath stood. “I’ve kept all the serviceable old furs and leathers in Ekuar’s caves underneath the Palace. And Newstar and I have a good cache of fresh furs hidden away as well. Come, granddaughter, let’s stitch together some cold-weather clothes for our seekers.” 

“Venka,” Zhantee took her hand. “Are you sure I cannot come too? You might need a shielder where you are going.” 

“Sweet lifemate,” she touched his cheek. “We will be fine. Stay here and take care of the others. The tribe needs your talents, especially as the flood waters draw back and all the waterlogged trees from winter are liable to come tumbling down.” 

“I don’t like the idea of lifemates parting ways, even for a little while,” Dewshine said to Tyldak. “It goes against the Way.” 

**Fear not, Lree. Blue Mountain holds no danger for me. We will return before the catfish spawn.** 

Dewshine hugged him tightly. “I wish I was as fearless as you. I hate that mountain, and all the rubble that remains. The Black Snake’s poison has outlived her death.” 

* * * 

Within two days, Moonsbreath and Newstar, assisted by Teru and Kimo, had sewn fresh winter coats for the journey. The questing elves assumed the old leathers they had last worn in cold times – in Suntop’s case many years earlier, and readied themselves for the journey. 

“I fear we’re a little low on good cold weather furs,” Moonsbreath said as she presented her work. 

“I’m not surprised,” Suntop said. “We’ve grown a little soft down here in the rain forest. I think we’ll stop off at Thorny Mountain on the way to Blue Mountain and borrow a few of their furs.” 

“Good-bye, little ankle-biter,” Vaya cooed to Cheipar. “You take care of your Aunt Shenshen, all right?” 

“Dung!” Cheipar shot back cheerfully. “Come back soon Mama.” 

“Mm, I will.” She kissed the crown of his head and passed him to Pike. Pike and Skot said good-bye to their son, then handed him over to Shenshen, who bundled him up in his favourite leather blanket. Cheipar soon slipped out of her grasp, however, and toddled over to Yun. 

“Like sticks to like,” Vaya laughed. “He can scent a fellow Go-Back.” 

Yun scooped Cheipar up, then glanced at her blond lifemate. “Shall we practice for when we have fawns of our own, Wavecatcher?” she teased. 

Wavecatcher grinned and ruffled Cheipar’s dark brown hair. “I don’t know, we might just make him take to the water so well he won’t want the floods to recede.” 

“Where is Zhantee?” Suntop asked. 

Venka sighed sadly. “He didn’t want to see me off. We’ve already said our goodbyes.” 

“Mm, as have Dewshine and I,” Tyldak nodded as he fidgeted with his new leathers. Years of wearing nothing but tattered trousers had made him chafe at the confines of a shirt laced about his wings. “Strange. I would almost think they were are plotting something.” 

“Fare well, my cubs,” Swift hugged her twins. “And don’t hesitate to return for reinforcements should you need them... in body or in spirit.” 

“I won’t, Mother. Father,” Suntop turned to hug Rayek. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep my head.” 

**I don’t doubt it. But I’ll always worry, Suntop,** Rayek sent as he held his son close. 

At length the nine elves turned from their kin and entered the Palace. Skywise bid goodbye to his lifemate and followed, ready to assist in navigating the way to Blue Mountain. 

The fourteen elves left remaining watched as the Palace cast off its disguise of trees and moss-covered rocks. For an instant it gleamed its pure crystalline shape. And then it winked away, leaving only the bare hilltop. 

* * * 

The Palace winked back to life atop the cold rocky outcrop where it had first landed a hundred and forty-two years earlier. Suntop clutched his white fox fur about his shoulders as he stepped out onto the rocks. He knew that Strongbow had surely sensed the Palace touch home, but nevertheless, he tipped his head back and howled a greeting. 

Within moments the howl was returned by a chorus of wolves and elves. Soon tiny figures appeared at the base of the mountain, then rushed up the rocks towards the Palace. 

**By Bearclaw’s beard!**Strongbow’s sharp sending pierced their minds. **My eyes see with joy!** 

A half-dozen gray wolves streaked ahead of the archer and his kin to welcome the newcomers. “Hah, hello there!” Suntop laughed as one large wolf licked his cold-burned face. “You must be from Teir’s pack.” 

“Uncle Pike!” a feminine voice called. 

“Hah, there’s Ember!” Pike grinned. He raced down the rocks as a lithe huntress with red hair came into view. Great-uncle and great-niece met half-way down the incline, and Ember threw herself into Pike’s waiting arms. 

“So the Wild Hunt in wintering in the north this year?” Pike laughed as he spun Ember around. 

“Teir’s wolves grew such thick coats this death-sleep it seemed cruel to take them south and let them sweat in the rain forest. So we decided to come to Thorny Mountain and visit with Grandmother.” 

“How is my sister Rainsong?” 

“Wonderful, Pike. She’s even helping Teir and me–” and then Ember’s voice dropped away. 

“Helping?” 

Ember lowered her turquoise eyes. **It’s a secret for now... but since you’re close kin... Teir and I are trying to force Recognition. I know it’s not the Wolfrider way, and I want it to happen naturally... but Rainsong said she could increase our odds of Recognizing without actually forcing it in one shot.** 

Pike grinned. **That’s wonderful, cub.** 

**Don’t tell anyone, not even Skot and Vaya. They can’t keep secrets to save their lives.** 

**I know. Don’t worry.** 

Strongbow reached them, not even winded from this sprint up the hill in the winter cold. Face-fur was slowly developing on his chin, and in a few more years it would surely be a proud, pointed beard. One-Eye was several paces behind him. He too had a first dusting of face-fur under his cheekbones. 

“You really look like elders now,” Suntop grinned. 

One-Eye rubbed at his elongated sideburns. “Hmm. Clearbrook’s not sure she likes it. She says I have an eight of turns to get it in shape, and if she doesn’t like the way it looks she’ll have Rainsong magic the fur right off my skin and keep any from ever growing back.” 

Strongbow rolled his eyes good-naturedly. He would never let his lifemate dictate to him – especially not about something as solemn as this. Suntop imagined Strongbow itched to lecture Clearbrook that she ought to be thankful she and her lifemate lived long enough to see his face-fur develop. 

**Come back to the Holt.** Strongbow sent. **We must welcome you properly.** 

“We can only stay one night,” Suntop said. “We must leave tomorrow. I fear for Timmain if we do not solve this mystery soon.” 

“Timmain...” Strongbow whispered hoarsely as the High One emerged from the Palace, heavily bundled in furs. A tear glinted in his left eye. How many years since the Palace War, and their first glimpse of her in elf form? Too many for an elder like him. 

* * * 

Thorny Mountain was currently at eleven members: Redlance, Nightfall, Strongbow, Moonshade, One-Eye, Clearbrook, Woodlock, Rainsong, and the Wild Hunt, currently numbering only three in Teir, Ember, and Skot’s brother Kirjan. It was a small tribe, but big enough to be self-sufficient. And though their winter storeholes were nearly empty, they nevertheless managed a fine feast for the visitors. After one night of howls, the questing elves bid farewell to their kin at Thorny Mountain and returned to the Palace. 

**Send if you need us,** Strongbow sent to Suntop. **I have not forgotten the touch of that Black Snake, and I have no doubt that her curse still hangs over the mountain.** 

“Be safe,” Kirjan handed his brother Skot a new shoulder-cape of fox fur. “Don’t get your head bashed in, hey?” 

Suntop closed the door to the Palace and padded back to the Scroll Chamber. He yawned, still a little sleepy from the good meat. “Skywise? Skywise, are you here?” 

He heard a little noise, like the padding of a wolf cub’s paws. 

“Skywise? Where are you?” 

Again the noise came, and this time with a muffled murmur. A female’s voice. 

Intrigued, Suntop sprinted down the corridor. “Skywise?” He rounded the corner and found Skywise leading two prisoners down the hall by the ears. In his left hand he pinched Dewshine’s earlobe tightly, and in his right he held Zhantee captive. 

“Dewshine? Zhantee? What are you doing here?” 

“Stowing away!” Skywise laughed wryly. “I caught them raiding our food stores this morning. The little hairballs – they were going to hide away all the way to Blue Mountain!” 

“We have the right,” Dewshine snapped, twisting free. “We follow our lifemates.” 

“Stars in the sky!” Skywise released Zhantee. “Don’t tell me anyone else is hiding away in here.” 

“No,” Dewshine said, a little sullenly. “Just us.” 

**Venka, Tyldak!** Suntop called, and he couldn’t keep the mirth out of his sending. **We have something that belongs to you two.** 

* * * 

**You are incorrigible, Lree,** Tyldak sent fondly as Dewshine wound the soft leather thongs around the fur bracers wrapped about her wrists. Dewshine only smiled. 

“You are staying here in the Palace with Skywise,” Venka told Zhantee. “We’ll send for you if we need you, but no more sneaking along behind us, agreed?” 

“Agreed,” Zhantee said sheepishly. 

Venka glanced back at her twin brother. Suntop and Skywise stood in the center of the Scroll Chamber, their eyes closed and arms outstretched as their guided the Palace through space. The two Palacemasters needed only to imagine the rubble that was Blue Mountain, and the Palace appeared in the sky over the Death Water River. Venka felt the floor sway slightly under her feet, and the Palace settled down with a subtle lurch. 

“We’re down,” Dewshine said. 

Suddenly the Palace lurched again, violently this time. “Whoa!” Suntop cried, and he held his arms out. The Palace stabilized gently. “Whew. I forgot we’re not landing on even ground. Don’t worry,” Suntop added when Dewshine and Venka remained on guard. “I’ve set down ‘roots.’ We’re in place now.” 

Venka nodded, her concern banished by her brother’s assurances. “I’ll find Timmain.” 

The High One was where Venka had last left her, wrapped in a patchwork of rabbit furs in Suntop and Quicksilver’s bedroom. “Timmain,” Venka called softly. “We have arrived.” 

Timmain slowly rose. Her robe was loosely sewn about her body and fell in soft folds as she straightened. “I am ready,” she swallowed. 

* * * 

Skywise, Dewshine and Zhantee lingered in the doorway as the nine stepped out onto the broken rocks. “Stars in the sky...” Quicksilver breathed. “Is this all that remains of a great mountain?” She reached for Suntop’s hand. 

The landscape was littered with blue-gray and black rocks, many twisted into strange curls and organic loops. Several pockets of stagnant water were scattered in the low-lying areas. A cold wind blew over the broken ground. 

“Phew...” Quicksilver wrinkled her nose. “The land stinks with evil.” 

“Winnowill’s evil,” Suntop whispered. 

“Strange... how her spirit can be so gentle and innocent now...” 

“Death can sometimes gentle an elf’s spirit. But it could just as easily have unleashed her black soul on all of us. Had we had our way, we would have healed her – or kept her carefully bound in wrapstuff forever. But when the mountain fell... Mother had the choice to saving Winnowill’s cocoon or saving your father. The choice wasn’t hard – even with the risk of Winnowill infecting the world forever.” 

Venka closed her eyes. “I sense a presence here.” 

“Yes...” Tyldak nodded. “Someone... familiar.” 

“Haken?” 

“No... I never knew Haken. Look!” Tyldak pointed to the sky. A tiny dot circled overhead against the gray sky. 

“A bird?” Pike asked, shading his eyes with his hand. 

“A Glider.” Tyldak closed his eyes and sent. The dot hovered in the sky a moment, then dropped towards them. The dot grew in the sky, gradually changing into a long-limbed elf. 

Skywise inched out from the doorway. “Aroree?” 

The Glider descended to circle above. **Do my eyes deceive me? After all these years... Skywise, my little friend, is that you? And Tyldak? By the Egg, you have returned at last.** 

Aroree touched down on the ground. She was clad in a variant of the feathered leathers she had worn as one of the Chosen Eight. Her blond hair was no longer bound back in a tight bun, but was chopped short above her shoulders, and blew in feathery strands about her face. Tears gleamed in her eyes. “Why... Suntop? Little one... is that you? And Venka? Why you’re all grown up. And you...” she turned to Quicksilver. “Ohh... surely you can be none but Skywise’s child. Are you little Yun? I met you once as an infant.” 

The silver-haired elf smiled. “My name is Quicksilver. Yun is my elder sister by three years. Father has told us all about you.” 

“We lost track of you, Aroree,” Skywise said. “After the collapse of Blue Mountain and the Great Egg, we thought you had disappeared for good.” 

She smiled sadly. “I flew away... far away from any elves. I couldn’t face anyone... not after I saw my kin buried under stone. I flew into the east, for days upon days. It was only later, when the loneliness ate at my hollow heart, that I turned Littletrill around. I searched for you, little love, and all the Wolfriders. But you were no longer camped in the Forbidden Grove. And I despaired. I thought I was all alone.” 

“But you stayed here.” 

“Yes. And I found I was not alone. I – oh!” she cried as she caught sight of Timmain, gingerly tiptoeing closer. “You are older than I... older than the mountain... are you a High One?” 

Timmain only stared back at her. 

“This is Timmain,” Suntop prompted. “She is the mother of the Wolfriders. You met her once when she was a wolf, remember? She needs your help, Aroree. We come here looking for a... an agemate of hers. Another Firstcomer. His name was – is – Haken, and he’s Winnowill’s father. We think he founded Blue Mountain. Do you know of him?” 

Aroree shook her head. “But I know who can help you. Follow me.” 

“I’ll stay with the Palace,” Skywise said. “We don’t dare leave it unattended. But perhaps later, Aroree... we can talk. Until then, my daughter can tell you all that’s happened.” 

Aroree nodded. 

Skywise, Dewshine and Zhantee turned back into the Palace, and the door sealed up behind them. Instantly the Palace took on the shape of an immense rocky outcropping, seamlessly blending in with the surroundings. 

Aroree led the way, and Tyldak beat his wings to fly alongside her while the others followed on foot. Timmain picked her way over the rocks carefully, as if concentrating all her attentions on not cutting her bare feet. 

“Timmain... are you well?” Venka asked. 

“Broken... all broken... how strange... I cannot hear the voices... only echoes... forgotten echoes.” 

**I fear for her, brother,** Venka sent. **Her wits are slipping more every day as she withdraws within herself. If we are not careful, she may disappear into the wolfsong, and then we may never recover her.** 

**She has become a wolf before without losing herself.** 

**This time is different. Now she seeks to escape her own memories.** 

Suntop nodded gravely. As always, Venka was right. He took Quicksilver’s hand and squeezed it for comfort. 

“Can you keep up, Ekuar?” Pike asked. “The pace isn’t too hard, is it?” 

“I’m fine, young Pike,” Ekuar strode along the ground, bracing his steps with his walking stick. He reached up to adjust his fluffy hat over his bald head. “This cold air is invigorating... reminds me of the days with the Go-Backs.” 

“Where are you taking us, Aroree?” Tyldak asked as he glided on the cold wind alongside the former member of the Chosen Eight. “Who lives here with you?” 

Aroree only flew ahead, over a rise in the rubble of twisted rock. A large flat slab of rock loomed just over the hillcrest, and atop it sat a large rock hut, flat-roofed and carved with intricate symbols. And on a flat rock next to the hut sat a lanky elf with long golden hair. And floating just above his outstretched hand was a small egg of intricately shaped rock. 

“Egg!” Tyldak cried.


	2. Mountain's Heart

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the elf held up the small egg. “And finished just in time for your arrival, Tyldak.” He floated down from the rocky slab to join them. And then his blue eyes alighted on Timmain, clutching her fur robe tightly. 

“Timmain... Mother...” he breathed. Tears sparkled in his eyes. “I have not forgotten...” 

Timmain’s eyes seemed to brighten with renewed life. “Aurek... my son... you are whole in body, mind and soul once more.” She held out her hand towards him. “My child... help me. I am drowning.” 

He left the egg floating in the air and floated to her side. He took her hand and pressed her palm to his cheek. **I am here, Great-Grandmother,** he sent. **Take my strength.** 

Timmain breathed a long sigh of relief. “Aurek... my heart rejoices.” 

Pike and Suntop flanked Tyldak. “Does this make any sense to you?” 

Tyldak shook his head. 

Now Timmain was beginning to swoon on her unsteady feet, and Aurek held her up. “You see, Mother. I have rebuilt the Egg. The truth will never be lost.” Then he looked over the other eight assembled elves. “You have all come a long way. Come inside, and I will tell you the story of Aurek, called Egg.” 

Suntop assumed he meant the stone hut, and turned towards it. But instead the floating egg shattered into countless little pieces, then spun outward and reassembled as a huge structure as imposing as the Egg of Six Spheres. Only now the Egg enveloped them. 

“What is this?” Quicksilver demanded. 

“Merely a change of perspective,” Aurek smiled. 

A shared vision overwhelmed them. They saw the gray-skinned Egg sitting in front of the Egg of Six Sphere, helpless as Winnowill held open his mouth and poured a noxious gray potion down her throat. “Look at me!” a voice cried. “Enslaved, enthralled, as gray as the stone. Winnowill held my body hostage, but not my spirit. I mastered all of the Six Sphere and it way to its core I fled when I divined the heart of her plan. It was the only escape I had.” 

The vision shifted and they saw Egg as he appeared now, pink-skinned, golden-haired, sharing breath with Timmain, beautiful and bright-eyed. Floating islands trailing silver waterfalls and crystalline spires dotted the dreamscape. 

“My spirit found refuge inside the innermost shell. There I renewed my bond with Timmain, mother of us all. She shared breath with me and entrusted me with a great task – to restore the Egg of Six Spheres to the World of Two Moons. And to remember... remember that even though my body was enslaved, my spirit lived! I ran like a wolf with Timmorn Yellow-Eyes. I suffered in the cold of the snow. I knew pain and sorrow and joy and love. I lived in that one moment. I lived. But my task was not complete. I had to restore the Egg. That meant returning to my body. It meant embracing my skin again.” 

The scene shifted again. Now Egg lay on the broken ground, his clothing in tatters, his hair spilling out from his skullcap. His legs were broken, one shoulder dislocated. Rain streamed down about the broken remnants of Blue Mountain. 

“It meant enduring pain – the bone-grinding pain caused by my injuries. The other Gliders, the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho, all had fled or died in the collapse. I was alone.. or so I believed.” 

Now they saw Two-Edge bearing a litter upon which the broken, naked Aurek lay, lashed in place by leather bonds. “Two-Edge found me, dragged me out of Blue Mountain through one of his own secret underground labyrinths. He tended my wounds with clumsy kindness. And as I healed, he babbled to me how this rescue ended a game he and his ‘dear mother’ were playing. Poor tormented soul.” 

Now they watched Two-Edge patch Aurek’s many wounds, as Aroree hovered overhead, bearing a bowl of hot water. “Aroree found us... or had Two-Edge found her? No matter. My heart sang to see my grand-niece again. Yes – she is the granddaughter of one of my long-lost sisters, though time had caused many of the Gliders to forget the many bonds of kin. We found a strange sort of peace, the three of us, united in our desire to heal the many wounds inflicted by Winnowill. In time Aroree and I learned to hunt with weapons left behind by the Hoan-G’Tay-Sho. We made our own garments and bedding, and I shaped this house of ours. We shared our knowledge with Two-Edge, and in time repaid him for his compassion. And then I began to reassemble and transform the spheres–” 

The visions disappeared, and the great egg shrank into the compact handheld structure. 

“ –Into the form you see in my hand. My compact with Timmain has been fulfilled. The Egg of Six Spheres is whole again, preserving for all time the history and deeds of our kind.” 

He turned to Timmain. Tears now shone in her eyes. She smiled and nodded. “You have... done well... child,” she whispered, her voice hoarse. 

“Come,” Aurek said. “You’ve travelled a long way, and on a quest of great importance. Share meat with me. We will talk more once your spirits and bodies are refreshed.” 

* * * 

Aurek and Aroree’s home was dug into the rock below the hut itself, and Aurek shaped the circular table to grow big enough to hold the nine visitors. They feasted on roast duck and fresh greens, though Timmain ate little. At the conclusion of their meal, Aurek poured a dark brew into the pottery cups, while Aroree beckoned Timmain to follow her into an adjacent room. 

“You cook a good meal, Egg,” Skot laughed. “And you brew a good wine. Though I can’t say I care for your bracelet.” 

Aurek glanced down at the velvety snake coiled around his wrist. “Oh, he’s quite harmless. He likes the different wines I ferment.” He glanced at Pike. “I’ve come to have a taste for them too, now that my head can handle you.” 

Pike blushed. “You remember that, eh?” 

“I could hardly forget it. And it’s Aurek, please. ‘Egg’ was Winnowill’s name for me.” 

“Aurek...” Vaya said thoughtfully. “You said you know why we’re here. How? Did you see it in the Egg?” 

He shook his head. “No, Vaya, Daughter of Snow. The Egg is simply a vessel of knowledge. I am the knowledge.” 

“Do you know everything, then?” 

“Not exactly. Not what is to come. Not all that has come to pass. But I know this moment, and many moments past. I read the air the way Wolfriders read tracks in the forest, and I record all I have seen in stone.” 

“Then you know we are looking for Haken,” Suntop said. 

“Aye.” 

“Is he here?” Quicksilver asked. “Is he alive?” 

Aurek smiled softly. “You have your father’s thirst for knowledge – and your mother’s impatience.” 

“How do you know my mother?” 

“I know. Is that not enough?” 

Quicksilver smiled wryly. “Perhaps.” 

“So enough babble,” Skot said. “Let’s go. Where is Haken, huh? Let’s find him, fix whatever’s wrong with Timmain, and get home.” 

“Peace, Go-Back. In time.” 

“Mmm, good wine!” Pike smacked his lips. “More, please.” 

Aurek refilled the cup. “Haken... now there is a name I haven’t heard in a long time.” 

“Then you knew him,” Suntop said. 

“Knew him? Oh yes. He was my grandfather.” 

“Your grandfather?” 

“You were correct, Suntop, to infer that Haken founded Blue Mountain. Indeed, he and Gibra the Firstcomer did, though Blue Mountain did not take its true shape until Lord Voll’s time. Yes, Voll was Gibra’s son, and she found Haken just as you guessed, near the Death Water River, a short distance from this mountain. Haken had formed a small band by rescuing five other Firstcomers lost during the first winter on this world. Gibra joined him, her desire to be reconciled with him overpowering her desire to return to Timmain and the others. Eventually Haken’s tribe grew. As time passed, more Firstcomers, the lost ones who separated from the guiders at the moment of crash, came to the mountain, drawn by the call of their kin. I wonder, Ekuar, whether one of your parents or kin came here when the great winter began.” 

Ekuar nodded. “Could be... could be...” 

“Haken Recognized many times,” Aurek continued, “as did his companions, and soon our ‘tribe’ grew. More caves had to be created. As our rock-shaping gifts became more concentrated with each new generation, Voll and Haken insisted on a grander vision. No longer would we muck in caves like the barbarous humans outside. We would recreate the Palace inside the mountain, and live as High Ones ought to. By that point we numbered close to a hundred elves, many with powers of rock-shaping and all with the gift of flight. All... but Winnowill... whose talents at floating were never very refined. So as the mountain’s interior grew, stairs were built everywhere for Winnowill, and it seemed she did not mind her disability. How were we all to know that was just one of many seeds that would sprout into her madness?” 

“I was born to Haken’s favourite son, and soon took up a task to preserve a living history of the world, in the spirit of Haken’s fondly-remembered Scroll of Colors. The mountain grew. And then... one day – a disaster. Our rock-shapers were too ambitious, too arrogant in their abilities. A massive archway they tried to shape collapsed, killing many elves, including Haken’s lifemate. 

“Haken never recovered from the tragedy. He disappeared deep into the mountain and was never seen again. Winnowill blamed herself. Her healing powers had not been strong enough to save her kin. She threw herself into deeper meditation, stronger mental training, intent never to lose another life. At first we all thought she was coping admirably – unlike Voll, who began to withdraw into a shell of silence. But we all respected Voll, and we looked to him to lead us. He took up the burden of leadership with resignation, while Winnowill continued to nurture her powers with a growing obsession. In time we began to forget about the pain of the accident, and the disappearance of Haken. But Winnowill never did. And her guilt was simply another stepping stone into madness.” 

Timmain and Aroree returned from the other room, and the Wolfriders grinned to see Timmain outfitted in new clothes. Aroree had given her a pair of form-fitting leather trousers and a soft creamy-white tunic. Her slender feet and ankles were protected by durable leather boots, like the kind Egg wore, and her shoulders were warmed by a fur cape. Timmain saw the attention her new appearance attracted and smiled almost shyly. 

“It has been a long time since I confined my limbs in clothing,” she whispered. “Yet it feels... safe... like armour.” She gingerly took her seat next to Ekuar. “I heard your tale, Aurek. And I brood on its words.” 

Aurek looked at her steadily. “Then you understand, Mother?” 

“Yes.” She shuddered. “Tell me, child, does Haken live still? Or does he elude your sight as he eludes the Scroll of Colors?” 

“I cannot tell whether he exists here in flesh or spirit. But I can tell you that some part of him lingers here. I felt it – as did Two-Edge, on one of his many delves into the darker tunnels below this rubble heap. There is a presence deep in the earth that does not sleep. In body or in spirit alone, it waits. Perhaps it has been waiting for you.” He glanced over the nine elves, and his gaze rested on Timmain longest. 

Pike finished his draught of wine with a loud smack of the lips. “More, please.” 

“Haven’t you had enough for now?” Vaya nudged him. 

“More, please.” Pike reached for the jug himself. 

“Two-Edge, is he still here?” Suntop asked. “Perhaps he could guide us–” 

“Sadly, he is away once more. He often leaves for days, moons at a time, seeking healing in the mountain caves. Poor tormented soul. Aroree and I have done much to quiet the demons in his head, but he still has many scars to overcome. Scars I fear only his mother could truly heal." 

“I know most of the tunnels,” Aroree said. “I... I often follow Two-Edge on his journeys. I can take you down... perhaps not as deep as Two-Edge has ever reached, but deeper than Winnowill’s old chambers.” 

“That’s good,” Suntop said. “From there I should be able to sense things more clearly. If there is a presence under the mountain as you said, Aurek, then I will be able to find it.” 

“Indeed, Child of Sun. You have the sight like no other.” 

Pike gulped his wine. “So... *hic* we go under the mountain?” 

“Now?” Skot grinned eagerly. 

“We wait until nightfall,” Suntop said. “Then we go. Ekuar, I hope you’re ready. We may need a lot of rock shaped before tomorrow’s sunrise.” 

“Don’t worry about me, little brownskin. I feel fit as a youngster.” 

Suntop rose from the table. The floor began to sway under his feet. Pike’s cup of wine tipped over and the other elves leapt to their feet. Now the potted plants were swaying on their woven tethers, and bits of dust and loose rock flakes fell from the ceiling. 

“Earthquake?” Quicksilver cried. 

The tremors increased, and Suntop and Venka darted under the table for cover, Quicksilver fast behind them. Pike swayed drunkenly, then hit the floor hard. Vaya and Skot hurried under one of the archways for safety, while Ekuar and Timmain swayed on the ground, trying to maintain their footing. Tyldak threw his wings out to enfold the High One and the rock-shaper, though his thin wing membranes would not protect them against more than a light dust. Aroree and Aurek floated above the ground, watching the ceiling for signs of stress. 

One of the plants pulled free of its ceiling tether and crashed on the floor. And then the swaying gradually began to ease. At length everyone rose from their crouches. Suntop helped his lifemate to stand, then brushed the dust from Venka’s long black hair. Ekuar and Tyldak assisted the disoriented Timmain, while Aurek scooped up the broken plant and coaxed the pottery shards to reassemble around the dirt and roots. 

“Pure soil is hard to come by around the mountain now,” he said. “One must never waste it.” 

“Whew, some earthquake,” Vaya whistled. “Hey, Pike – you all right?” 

“My rump hurts,” Pike moaned as lifemate and lovemate pulled him up. 

“Here, let’s get some more wine in you, squirrel-cheeks,” Skot said. “That’ll cure your ills.” 

“That was no earthquake,” Suntop breathed. 

“No natural one, at any rate,” Venka agreed. “Haken?” 

They looked to Timmain. She was beginning to shiver again. She nodded in confirmation, her expression one of dread. 

Skot poured Pike some new wine and helped him drink it down. “What – are you saying that cursed rock-shaper is trying to kill us?” 

“No... I don’t think so.” 

“Such tremors are common,” Aurek said as he skilfully repotted the plant, then let his snake coil up on the warm soil. “The spirit under the mountain is restless. I do not believe it was directed at you personally. But the presence... it lashes out at the world blindly. It has ever since Blue Mountain fell.” 

“We might be giving Haken some focus when we go down there,” Quicksilver said. 

“Mm,” Suntop nodded. “We’ll have to be doubly on guard. Let’s all rest while we can. The sun will set soon, and then we’re going in.” 

* * * 

Pike lay sleeping off his hangover when Suntop nudged his shoulder, not unkindly. “Hey, Pike. Pike, time to go.” 

“You’ll never get him up now,” Vaya laughed. “If we had Rain with us, we might do it, but as he is his memory is useless to you now.” 

Suntop shook his head. “Some leader I make. I can’t even keep Pike from drowning in wine.” 

“No one can stop Pike when he gets it in his head,” Vaya said. “Leave him here with Aurek. You’ve got Aroree to show you the way now, anyway.” 

Suntop glanced over at Aurek, humming softly as he tended to his plants. **Look at him. Haken’s spirit – in his body or not – has been raging under this mountain for years, and Aurek couldn’t care less. He’s almost like Ekuar.** 

**A few nuts shy of a full pouch?** 

Suntop ignored the mirth in Vaya’s sending. **No... just... somewhere else.** 

**Same thing.** 

**We should leave someone here to keep an eye on him. I’ve already sent Skywise and the Palace away to the other side of the Death Water River, in case the mountain starts to shake again. Maybe we should send Aurek there as well.** 

“I can hear you sending,” Aurek remarked without looking up. “Don’t fear for me, Suntop. I have lived here in peace for many years. Your sudden invasion of Haken’s rocks will not endanger me.” 

“Still, Aurek, I don’t want to take any chances. You are a great Elder. We cannot lose you.” 

“Really, Suntop. I mean no offence, but who could you leave to guard me that could protect me in some way I cannot protect myself?” 

Vaya’s lip curled back in a bit of a growl. **Arrogant mucking magic-user. Let me stay with him and Pike, Suntop. I’ll teach the feather-shirt a thing or two.** 

**Don’t pin his ears back, Vaya.** 

**I’ll try.** She smiled lopsidedly. **But a good Go-Back never makes promises she won’t be able to keep.** 

Suntop, Quicksilver, Venka, Tyldak, Ekuar, Skot, Timmain and Aroree assembled outside Aurek’s house. “Take us in. Aroree,” Suntop said. “We’re ready.” He glanced back at Vaya and Aurek. “Take care, you two. And if you can get Pike awake sometime within the next eight-of-days have him send to me. I’ll hear him.” 

Vaya nodded. 

“Timmain?” Suntop looked up. The High One nodded. Suntop turned back to the broken plain. The stars were out, shining brightly and casting a silver glow over the slag and gravel. Aroree flew on ahead, searching for the burrow entrance. Now sensibly clad, Timmain strode over the ground with a more confident air, though her eyes were still distant. Quicksilver kept her hand on her sword – larger than an elfin short-sword but shorter than the standard troll-sword. Venka scanned the landscape like a hawk. Tyldak brooded. Only Skot marched over the ground jauntily, one hand on his sword-hilt, the other on his spear. His long tail of brown hair bounced confidently with each step. 

“Here,” Aroree brought them to an opening in the ground, guarded by a subtly-hewn stone wall. Steps coated with moss and dust led deep into the ground. 

“Ohhh...” Suntop peered into the gloom. “It’s a dark life underground, even to our eyes, and none of us have wolfblood. Do you have lights, Aroree?” 

“No worries, Suntop. Two-Edge has cached some glowing rocks just inside. All trolls use them to navigate where their eyes fail them. Come.” 

“Two-Edge...” Suntop mused as he followed Aroree down the slippery steps. “I was still a cub when we tangled last. He was... so badly hurt inside. Not even Rain’s healing could ease the pain of Winnowill’s tortures. When I thought Two-Edge had died in the collapse, I thought it a blessing. I never thought I would hear someone speak of him with such respect... or affection.” 

“Two-Edge helped me greatly,” Aroree flew ahead into the darkness of the tunnel, and Suntop could just see well enough to watch her open a secret compartment in the rock. A sudden green glow filled the tunnel as Aroree withdrew a handful of small glowing stones, each the size of a robin’s egg but projecting the light of a small lantern. “Just as Aurek needed healing in body, so I needed healing in spirit. Somehow... I’m not certain how, the act of tending to our broken bodies and minds brought out a new compassion in Two-Edge... a new tenderness. And as the three of us healed together, Two-Edge and I soothed each others’ inner demons. Do you know that I never slept at Blue Mountain? None of the Chosen Eight did. Winnowill had sapped our ability to dream through our many ‘lessons’ with her. Here, take one,” she handed a glowing stone to each elf. Suntop cradled it in his hand. It was warm to touch, but barely. 

“I could not dream, and sleep without dreams is madness. Two-Edge could dream... but only nightmares. We were perfectly matched, with our broken souls, our yearning for a peace we did not think we could attain. And in time, as the moons faded to seasons and to years, we began to heal.” 

“You love him,” Venka said softly. 

Aroree averted her eyes. “Come. It is a long descent.” 

**She loves that crazy old troll?** Skot sent to Tyldak. **You don’t think they’re... you know?** 

Tyldak slapped Skot upside the head. 

Aroree led them down carefully carved steps and steeply sloping inclines that the elves had to slide down. One moment the tunnel was beautifully maintained with little buttresses and recesses that served as both benches and storage areas, the next it was a feature-less tube, as though the product of a monstrous – and unimaginative – earthworm. 

“How does Two-Edge get around in here?” Skot asked as they had to negotiate a strange cleft in the rocks that connected two tunnel segments. The smaller elves and the nimble Aroree slipped through without difficulty, but Ekuar had to shape the rock to allow Tyldak and his ungainly wings passage. 

Hours passed, or so it seemed to the elves. They eschewed the tunnels that led off to the sides and followed Aroree deeper and deeper underground. One moment the tunnel would level, and the next it would plunge deep underground, so steeply that Aroree and Tyldak had to fly the others to the bottom of the slope. As they descended deeper into the heart of the mountain, the rocks lining the tunnel wall become twisted and deformed, like rotten tree roots. 

“Whose work is this?” Venka mused aloud. “A rockshaper, certainly, but who?” 

Suntop groped for Quicksilver’s hand. She caught his hand and squeezed it tight. 

**Malin?** 

Suntop lifted the back of her hand to his lips. **Just stay right beside me, Khai.** 

**Always.** 

They came to another deep chasm, and again Aroree and Tyldak ferried the others down to the bottom. Suntop and Quicksilver went first, and Skot, Venka, Ekuar, and Timmain watched as the light of their glowing stones disappeared in the darkness. 

“Whee!” Skot whistled. “How far do you think that pit goes?” 

“Far enough...” Venka said. 

Aroree and Tyldak returned. Venka entwined her arms about Aroree’s neck while Tyldak drew Ekuar’s slight form into his arms. “We will return, Skot, High One.” 

“Hurry,” Skot shouted down the chasm as they disappeared. 

Within minutes, they returned for the Go-Back and the High One. Tyldak carried Timmain down into the darkness while Aroree carried Skot. At length the light of the others’ glow stones appeared in the gloom. 

“Where now?” Skot asked as they touched down. 

The pit was a dead-end. No tunnels led away from the bottom of the chasm. “We must have reached the end of this tunnel,” Aroree said. “Two-Edge has dug no deeper.” 

‘Two Edge couldn’t have dug this pit,” Suntop said. “It would have taken endless eights of eights of years to create this – even with a rockshaper’s gift.” 

“So this cave is naturally formed then?” Venka asked as she paced around the bottom of the pit. “But if this was forged by wind and water, then there must surely be a way out.” 

“Where are we, do you think?” Suntop asked. 

“Below the deepest of Winnowill’s caves, surely,” Tyldak frowned. “Below the very foundations of Blue Mountain. Perhaps as deep underground as the mountain once stood above ground.” 

“Hmmm...” Quicksilver bent down. “I think I may have found the water’s path out of here.” She pointed to a tiny little crack in the ground, two fingers in width, running across the cave floor. “No way for us to get in there. Looks like its time for you to work, Ekuar.” 

“Wait,” Suntop said. “Give me a moment.” He closed his eyes. His eyelids fluttered as he entered a deep trance. Quicksilver watching him nervously, chewing her lip. Ekuar, meanwhile, bent down and inspected the thin crack in the rock. 

“Hmm, hmm, humm,” he murmured. “Old rock, very strong, but brittle. I’ll have no trouble here, my little brownskins, if this is the way to go.” 

Suntop opened his eyes. “What is it?” Quicksilver asked. “Is Haken... or whatever’s here... further below?” 

Suntop nodded. “Yes. I can feel it... a dark... brooding presence... like a black moth tightly cocooned, about to break free. We go down. And we tunnel that way,” he pointed behind his left shoulder. “East, towards the sunrise. Take us down at a gentle angle, Ekuar... say... the rays of the sun on a winter’s day.” 

Ekuar knelt down and touched the rock. “Humm-de-hmm... here we are,” he smiled as the rock melted away and a large hole opened up in the ground. He sunk down below the floor of the pit, and Suntop and Quicksilver followed. 

“Are you ready to go on, Timmain?” Tyldak asked her. 

Timmain shuddered. “We are going so deep... so far... I fear what we might encounter.” 

“Do not fear, High One. You are among friends.” 

Timmain smiled wanly. And she moved towards the growing tunnel in the floor, her silvery hair streaming behind her on the cave floor. 

Ekuar’s tunnel was tighter, more claustrophobic than Two-Edge’s tunnels, and Quicksilver rubbed her shoulders. “Brr... I don’t like this. I think I inherited Father’s fear of tight spaces.” 

Suntop took her hand and smiled as confidently as he dared, given the circumstances. 

Tyldak and Timmain ducked the heads a little as Ekuar hadn’t shaped the tunnel quite high enough. But neither complained or asked the rock-shaper to tax himself further. No one spoke, and the only sounds in the cramped space was their rapid breathing. 

“Is it just me, or is it getting a lot hotter?” Skot finally said. He tugged off his parka and tied it around his weight by the furred sleeves. 

“I know,” Venka wiped her forehead. “Are we nearing one of the world’s veins of liquid fire?” 

“I don’t know,” Aroree said. “I have never gone this deep before.” 

“We’re not going to run out of air, are we?” Quicksilver asked. “Are we?” she asked again, when no one answered. 

In time Ekuar smiled. “Ahh... I sense something ahead. Another chamber... not far now...” 

Timmain was shivering intensely now. Tyldak draped one wing around her in comfort. She didn’t seem to notice. 

“We’re almost through,” Ekuar said. “Hum-hmm, these rocks are quite warm... no, not liquid fire... I think it’s a simpler kind of heat... yes, yes... almost there.” 

Quicksilver drew her sword. Venka tensed. Suntop stared ahead resolutely. 

The last of the rock melted away under Ekuar’s gentle touch, revealing a large chamber softly illuminated by the glow of a fire. Suntop edged through the opening Ekuar had shaped, and Quicksilver slipped through after him, ready to cover him with her sword-arm. 

“Can you sense anything?” she whispered. 

Suntop nodded. “Dark... dark fog.” 

The chamber was carefully shaped by a magic-user, and resembled the darker recesses of Blue Mountain where once they had confronted Winnowill. But the scale was much smaller, more like Aurek’s simple home. A fire burned in a little recessed fireplace. Suntop glanced at it, then stared again. The fire was not burning wood or straw. Instead the flames were suspended in the air, burning independent of any fuel. 

Furs were artfully arranged on stone benches. Little bottles that seemed to hold no liquid perched on rock-shaped shelves. Carpets that seemed made of soft Preserver silk covered the stone floor. A leaden silence filled the chamber. 

“Poke me once, poke me twice...” Skot breathed. “Where are we?” 

“Listen...” Suntop whispered. 

A little flutter of wings, like a distant moth, broke the deathly stillness. For a moment the sound hovered just out of reach, then a small creature descended from above. 

“A Preserver!” Venka whispered. 

The little bug, on the small side for a Preserver, had a smooth dark blue body and delicate violet wings edged in black. Unlike all the Preservers the Wolfriders knew so well, this one bore no hat, and was bald as Ekuar. 

The Preserver hovered in the air, watching them warily. 

“Hello,” Suntop attempted in a soft voice. He held out his hand in friendship. “Can you–” 

“Yaah!” the Preserver cried, leaping on Suntop’s palm and digging its claws into his tender flesh. It snarled at Suntop, then took off, leaving bleeding claw-marks behind. 

“Lord Highthing!” it screamed as it flew down the chamber, then disappeared around the corner. “Lord Highthing! Newcomers!” 

“Puckernuts!” Suntop cried. “Come on. We just blew our element of surprise.” 

They chased after the fleeing bug, crossing the chamber’s width and turning down the darkened corridor after it. A steep staircase spiralled into a muted light, and Suntop and Quicksilver almost lost their footing as they led the charge after the Preserver. 

Suntop turned the corner and staggered onto the floor of the second chamber. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. In contrast to the almost-habitable room they had just left, this one was bare of creature comforts, and decorated instead with a huge stone box, large enough to hold a prone human, and shaped with intricate symbols reminiscent of the Egg. Atop the box reclined the figure of a beautiful female High One with flowing hair and leonine features. An unseen light source above the stone cast a supernatural glow over the strange construct. And beyond it, huddled against the wall in a defensive crouch, was a tall elf, his elegantly long limbs clad in tattered leather and feathers, his black hair dishevelled and dust-covered. His right hand instinctively rose to clutch his maimed right shoulder, and the hidden stump of flesh under his leathers. 

“So, you’ve come at last,” Haken rasped.


	3. Darkness

Haken slowly drew himself to his feet, his lip curled back in a sneer. Then his golden eyes alighted on Suntop, and his angry demeanour melted away into an expression of wonder. 

“Runya...? Is that you?” Haken reached out with his one hand. “Runya... my son... oh – bright eyes... golden hair... my son?” 

Suntop licked his lips. “Haken. My name is Suntop.” 

Ekuar took a step towards Suntop, and Venka held him back gently. Skot hurried down the stairs, then came to a halt. 

Haken blinked. “A spirit... come to visit me. Oh, I knew I would see you one day... my son.” 

Aroree quietly moved behind Ekuar. Tyldak tiptoed down the final steps, Timmain sheltered under one wing. When Timmain saw Haken her jaw dropped in horror. 

“Haken–” Suntop began, but now Haken’s eyes fell on Timmain, and a rage sprang to life in their depths. A low growl built within him, and his hair seemed to rise as if charged with static. 

“YOU! Wolf-bitch!” 

“Haken–” Timmain raised her hands defensively. 

“Food for worms...” Haken sneered. “You... are food for the WORMS!” 

“Please...” 

“Leave me! I don’t want you here, spirit.... LEAVE!” 

He sprang at her. Timmain held up her hands and an invisible force pushed him back. 

Quicksilver caught Suntop’s shoulders and pulled him out of the way of the battling High Ones. Venka and Aroree drew Ekuar back up the staircase. Skot and Tyldak had already darted away from Timmain, who now seemed possessed with a strange new strength. 

“Timmain!” Suntop cried. 

A sizzling static charge ionized the air around Haken as he extended his one arm. Timmain was beginning to shudder again, only this time not with fear, but with a hint of great magic to come. Her hair rose like the hackles of a wolf, and feathery white fur began to sprout along her cheekbones. 

“Oh, poke it!” Skot wailed. “She’s going to change!” 

Haken sprang forward again. Timmain snarled as her tunic began to split at the seams under the pressure of her shape-changing flesh. 

**Enough!** Venka’s mind shouted, and a powerful sending star shattered their concentration and blocked their shape-changing powers. Timmain and Haken both cried out at Venka’s attack, and raised their hands to their foreheads. **You are High Ones, not wild beasts!** 

“What is this... what is...” Haken looked around desperately. “Who are you?” 

“I am Venka, Blood of Chiefs. And you will not hurt our High One.” 

“High One? Her? She’s a dog – a dog. Go away spirits! Take your dog with you.” 

“Oh, Haken, would that I had cleansed this world of your hatred ages ago.” 

“Murderer!” 

“No one will duel here!” Venka snapped. 

“I am no murderer, Haken. I never struck out in malice and fear as you did – I never killed for the sheer pleasure of it!” 

“You stupid, senseless BITCH! You killed us all! You embraced death, and bade it to embrace us in turn! Our kind never died before – not until you brought us here, not until you wished us to leave the safety of our ship! You invited death and decay to lie down with us!” 

“You don’t understand, Haken–” 

“Blood! Blood! Everywhere! Your hands are drenched in blood! You only lick it from your fingers and beg for more like the beast you are!” 

Timmain began to shiver. “Please, Haken–” 

“Her death is on your hands!” Haken pointed to the stone structure. Suntop swallowed hard as he finally realized what it was: a coffin, a stone version of the containers the humans often buried the death inside. 

Timmain’s eyes came to rest on the sarcophagus for the first time, and tears welled up against her will. “No... by the Palace...” 

“She’s dead because of you! Mud-lover! You wanted the dirt and the worms. You killed her the very instant you gave her life!” 

“Chani...” Timmain shuddered. She took two steps towards the sarcophagus and her legs gave out. Whimpering softly like a wounded wolf, she crawled up to the base of the coffin and touched the cold stone. “Chani... my sweet daughter.” 

“Her daughter?” Skot looked over at Suntop. Suntop could only shrug helplessly. 

“Your tears come too late, Timmain!” Haken snapped. “Ice ages have come and gone since you killed her.” 

“I DIDN’T KILL HER!” Timmain screamed. “I loved my daughter! I wanted only the best for her. I only wanted her to live – to thrive in this world–” 

Haken turned away. “And die... die.... Because of you.” 

Timmain wept, moaning. “Chani... Chani... my daughter...” 

“Please!” Suntop called. “Haken, Timmain, talk to us.” 

Haken slunk back into the corner of the room. “No. I will not waste words on the wolf-bitch. No. I will speak only to Runya.” 

Suntop took a step towards Haken, and Quicksilver held out a hand to stop him. **Malin, no.** 

“Haken,” Suntop said. “Will you talk to me, alone? Will you promise not to hurt my kin if I stay here and speak with you?” 

Haken blinked, and once more it seemed the haze of many lonely centuries fell over him. “Runya... oh... you know I would never hurt you...” 

“And my kin?” 

Haken looked at Timmain, then at Venka. “Away – out of my sight!” 

“Everyone, go back up the stairs into the other room.” 

**Malin! I won’t leave you here alone.** 

**Please, Khai. Trust me. I’ll be all right.** He glanced at Venka. **Venka, please. Take care of Quicksilver. I won’t be long.** 

Venka took Quicksilver’s arm gently, and guided her up the stairs. Tyldak and Ekuar helped Timmain to her feet, and the High One limped away from the sarcophagus, her eyes lingering on the carving of the elf woman. 

**Suntop? You aren’t seriously going to stay in the same room as that rot-brained magic-user?** Skot asked as he hesitantly held up the rear of the retreat. 

“Go, Skot,” Suntop said. 

**Ohh... if you weren’t Swift’s son, and Rayek’s too...** But as Skot slowly retreated up the stairs, Haken waved his hand and a wall of rock rose up, sealing the staircase. 

“Haken!” Suntop cried. “You betrayed me!” 

Haken stared at the ground. He didn’t seem to hear Suntop. 

**Khai?** Suntop sent. 

**We’re all right. He just closed the door on us. Should we let Ekuar–** 

**No. We’ll honour our pact. Stay there.** Suntop glanced back at Haken uncertainly. Just what had he gotten himself into? 

* * * 

“Timmain,” Venka said gently, but firmly, rousing Timmain from her tears. “Can you explain this to us? Please, we must understand. Who is Chani?” 

Timmain’s face was a mask of pain. “My daughter. The first elf ever born on this world... the first elf born since we could remember. Our kind had long stopped breeding on our own world, but once the Palace crashed here, the old instincts returned. I... I mated with Aerth, the healer in our Circle. It was... not a true Recognition... not like it is now. But it was something new and strange to us... we who had not mated for endless years. It was... a hunger that could only be sated through joining and childbearing. And Chani was born. She was... so beautiful, radiant with new life. She was proof to me that I was right to oppose Haken’s path of pain and anger. She was proof that I had been right to embrace the world. She was proof – suffering can be an unexpected gift to those whose hearts have been stretched to encompass the challenge. 

“But she... and I drifted apart as she grew up. She asked so many questions – questions about Haken, and the Palace, and why we never tried to reclaim it. Finally, when she was three eights old... she left us, intent on finding Haken. And I... I escaped the grief by becoming a wolf permanently. A few years later, I gave birth to Timmorn Yellow-Eyes.” 

“Haken’s lifemate was your own daughter?” Venka asked. “Was... then, was she–” 

Timmain nodded. “Winnowill’s mother. I was grandmother to that... broken soul. And great-grandmother to Aurek of the Great Egg. My daughter rejected all I had tried to teach her and mothered the founders of Blue Mountain.” 

“Egg could have told us that part,” Skot growled under his breath. 

“So this is why you have been senseless since you learned of Haken’s fate! But why did you never tell us?” 

“Shame...” 

“Shame? Of what?” 

But Timmain only began to weep again. “Chani...” 

* * * 

Suntop crept closer to the sarcophagus. He stared down at the face shaped into the rock. She looked rather like Timmain, but with softer features. Her face was ever-so-slightly rounder in shape. Her cheekbones were less prominent. Her eyes were closed as if in a gentle sleep. 

“Isn’t she beautiful, Runya?” Haken said dreamily. 

“My name is Suntop,” he repeated. 

Haken didn’t hear. He traced a stone lock of hair on the sarcophagus. “She was always so full of life – not like the broken creatures I met in my travels and gathered close as my followers. She had a vitality no one could dim. She was... like a living shard of the Palace.” 

“Haken. Please, tell me everything. Can you start at the beginning – after Timmain drove you from the Palace?” 

Haken reflexively touched his left shoulder. “She bit my arm clean off and left me to die in the underbrush outside the Palace. ‘Leave now or die,’ she said. Hah. She wanted me to die... die in the forest, drained of my life’s blood, nothing but a worthless piece of meat for her wolves...” 

* * * 

Haken’s babbled words and half-clear sendings formed pictures in Suntop’s mind. He saw Haken lying on the ground, trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood from his severed arm. Timmain’s jaws had crushed his humerus, and shredded all the tendons and blood vessels. The little flitrins – the Preservers – buzzed around Haken. One – the black one Suntop had seen earlier – spit wrapstuff around the bleeding stump and sealed the wound. But too much blood had already stained the ground. It would summon predators and scavengers alike. Gradually Haken pulled himself up off the ground and limped away. The woods grew darker, the branches gnarled and dripping with dark moss. Somewhere in the distance, wolves howled. 

Haken was alone, helpless as any wounded beast. Every night he tore off the wrapstuff and tried to heal the wound. Every night the black flitrin had to wrap it up again. At length Haken sealed it up just enough to keep infection at bay. By day he struggled to find enough to eat. He shaped branches and bones into crude weapons and speared small game. 

He hated the taste of raw flesh. The warm blood revolted him, and the meat only made him sick. At length he remembered that fire could cook meat and render it safer to eat. His fire-starting powers were the only gifts that remained strong, and every night he cooked what little meat he caught. 

He fled south, towards the waning rays of the sun. Winter was approaching. He remembered the seasons of a world, and he knew that he would never survive without help. So Haken did what he knew best. He stuck at the humans. He slaughtered an entire pack of them five days’ travel south of the Palace and took their poorly tanned furs and their stores of food. Suntop watched in horror as though he were there. Children fled into the forest and women screamed piteously as Haken cut down the powerful menfolk and stole their furs off their backs. He took all he could, and left no survivors to seek vengeance. He shaped himself a small cave as the first snow began to fall. He survived. 

“I survived!” he hissed in the dream-vision. “I learned to kill as skilfully as Timmain. I learned to enjoy the ‘song’ of death and conquest. As long as I was the conqueror, as long as the darkness touched something besides me. Was that was Timmain was trying to teach us? Or had she in her foolish wide-eyed ‘love’ never felt the true pangs of near-starvation?” 

Winter took hold. Haken sought out a larger cave, one already hollowed out by the wind and rain. The Preservers wrapped up every new piece of meat he brought back, until he had amassed a large store of food to see him through the winter. 

One day in the midst of a blizzard Haken went hunting. He came upon a sort of prey he had never expected. Five half-dead Firstcomers lay in the snow. A crackling aura of magic hung in the air around them... rotten magic dispersing into the blizzard. They had tried to start a fire to warm themselves, but their powers had failed them. A golden-haired female lay on her back, her lips and fingertips already blue from cold. A man lay next to her, his arm locked about her waist. A red-haired couple crouched against a snow-covered rock, trying desperately to keep themselves awake. The female was shivering uncontrollably under her thin pink gown. The fifth elf, a lone male, was still struggling, feebly, to light a fire out of thin air. 

Haken stared at them for a long moment. For a split second he considered leaving them there. They had not seen him yet. And they were nearly dead anyway. But he couldn’t turn away from the pitiful sight. And so he bent his head to the wind and crept closer. The golden-haired maiden was the frailest, and he easily drew her up against his body. She was mumbling something faintly. 

He carried her back to his cave. She was barely breathing. “Flitrin,” he commanded one of the Preservers. “Do.” 

The blue-black Preserver hastened to the unconscious woman and wrapped her in glossy threads. Haken shivered, turned around, and hiked back into the storm. 

He brought them back one by one, and had the Preservers seal them up tightly. They could survive in wrapstuff until the cold ebbed. He set the cocoons aside and waited for the weather to turn. But his patience was thin. He longed for the sounds of other elves. The foolish chatter of Preservers was no consolation. Indeed, his favourite one was the little black one who seldom spoke. 

Haken had once thought that he enjoyed solitude. He knew better now. 

Finally, he could bear the silence no longer. He chose the largest cocoon and cut it open next to the fire. 

A red-haired male slowly awoke. Haken draped the body in furs as the elf began to regain his wits. Slowly, the man’s shivers began to abate. Finally he looked up at Haken with clear sight. 

“Who...?” 

“I am Haken. I am – I was, one of the Circle of Nine.” 

“Yes... of course.” 

“I don’t remember you.” 

“Sunan. I was... cocooned.” 

“A Navigator? Surely not.” 

“No. Only a sleeper... meant to waken at landfall... but the burrowers...” 

“I know.” 

“Where...?” 

“I found you in the snow. The flitrins are here with me. We cocooned you until the storm had passed.” 

“The others... they were with me..” 

“Still cocooned. They’re all alive... for now.” 

“Are there... other... survivors?” 

Haken lowered his head. “Not here.” 

Gradually, Sunan recovered his strength. By the end of the night, he was no longer shivering so painfully. By the next day, he could rise from his bed of furs. A few days later, Haken cut the next Firstcomer out. It was the blond male, Mora. The next day, Tillin, the pink-robed female, was set free. A few days later, Dauri and Berith were released. Berith was so emaciated that she was re-cocooned twice, when it seemed she would die of exhaustion. But at last she too began to recover. 

“You saved us from the clawing darkness, Haken,” Sunan said. “You have kept us alive. Will you be our leader?” 

It was all Haken had ever wanted – to be depended upon by others, to be recognized as provider and protector. Of course he said yes. And he taught the others how to hunt for themselves, how to protect themselves from the wild beasts. By summer they were strong enough to survive the next winter. The Preservers stored enough meat and plants to see them all through the cold. As summer ebbed into autumn they were strong enough to pool all their shaping talents and make a “throne chamber” in their cave. 

It was a reminder of what they had once had, and of what Haken swore to recover. 

As summer turned to autumn, Haken and Tillin were collecting nuts for storage when they happened to look over at each other. Suddenly something... akin to hunger or thirst deeply rooted in their bones, swept over them both. They were both terrified. Neither food nor water could quench it. For moons they agonized, unsure what would satisfy the strange hunger. 

They had never felt Recognition before. 

Finally, as they watched the bucks rutting in autumn, as they watched the mated pairs of foxes seek out new burrows, they understood. And fear and uncertainty gave way to sheer horror. 

“We are no better than beasts now!” Haken raged. 

They left their first joining filled with self-loathing. Tillin felt violated, and resented the unborn child now growing in her belly like a parasite. And Haken was ashamed of his scarred flesh, his mangled stump of a left arm. He was disgusted that he couldn’t simply grow a new arm. He refused to undress more than was necessary. He refused to sleep near Tillin for many months afterwards. They never joined again. 

The entire tribe spent an uneasy winter. No one knew how long it would take the baby to be born. No one knew what it would look like. Would it resemble the form they had taken now, or would it have the elongated head and hairless gray skin of their true shapes? Would it even be born living? No one knew anything about babies. Haken had been the last High One born on their dying homeworld. By the next summer, Tillin’s stomach began to swell, almost painfully, and the growing baby kicked constantly. Tillin’s terror grew with her appetite. 

Even as the last winter was colder than the first, the summers grew hotter, and when Tillin looked up from her gathering tasks and saw a lone elfin figure striding towards them, a small bundle in its arms, she dismissed it as a heat mirage. Then the figure came closer, and she took it for Berith. But it wasn’t Berith. It was another blond elf maiden. 

**Haken!** Tillin sent frantically. 

Haken came rushing out of the cave as Tillin warily escorted the newcomer towards their camp. Gibra stood before him, still clad in the tatters of her old green gown, a little baby in her arms. 

“I see...” he stammered. “I see Timmain’s tribe has discovered the uses of the flesh before us.” 

Gibra smiled, almost embarrassed. “Haken. I thought I would find you alone, not leader of your own tribe. This... this is my child, Vol.” 

“Vollllll...” Haken mocked, drawing out the sound. “And who is the father? Ah, with eyes like that, it must be Deir’s whelp.” 

“I came to show you the miracle of new life... but I see you and your kin have discovered it already. Or you will, in about another year’s time. Oh, this world breeds fine children, Haken. Timmain has already given birth to a fine daughter at the start of spring. Please, will you not lay aside your old grudges and come back to the Circle?” 

“Never. I swear, if Timmain and I cross paths again, one of us will die.” 

Gibra looked about. “Might not your tribe wish to meet their kin?” 

Tillin answered quickly. “Haken is our lord. We follow his lead in all things. He saved us when we would have died on this world. If he says that Timmain is no friend of ours, then we believe him.” 

“Go home, Gibra,” Haken said. “Take little Vollllll with you.” 

But instead Gibra remained. Just for a month or two, she said. “I can teach you about childbirth. I can share other wisdom as well.” Then she said she would remain until winter passed. “I can’t survive a trip back in this snow.” Then another season. “I should stay until Tillin’s child is born.” 

Gibra was there when Tillin gave birth. She gathered leaves for Tillin to chew to ease the pain. She coached Tillin through the delivery. And she held up Haken’s firstborn child. 

“A daughter,” she smiled. 

Haken stared down at the baby. She had Tillin’s auburn hair and Haken’s gold eyes. She was so frail... a sudden cold wind could kill her. Gingerly, Haken crooked his arm to hold the baby against his chest. 

“We will name her Vreya,” he said, and his voice faltered in a way it never had before. “And I swear, we will recover the Palace... for her, for Voll, and the other children who will come. They will know what it means to be High Ones.” 

Within a month of Vreya’s birth, Haken Recognized Gibra. 

Two years later, Haken’s son Krey was born. 

The others began to Recognize each other. It seemed that new baby was being born every other season. And each year the winter snows grew heavier. An ice age was sweeping over the World of Two Moons. 

“We have to regain the Palace,” Haken said, as he held his newest daughter Imalee. “My children deserve better than this squalor.” He looked down at Berith, almost a year pregnant by Mora. It would be her second child. “We must take back our Palace-ship, no matter how much human blood we must spill. By the time Berith’s child is born, we will have regained his birthright.” 

This time no one disagreed. Not even Gibra. 

“Berith and Voll can remain with our young. The others will follow me. With a force of six armed adults we will surely reclaim the Palace. I took it once, alone and unarmed, and I would have held it were it not for the wolf-bitch. This time, we will keep it. And we will gather all who wish to leave this wretched world. Timmain can stay here and die if she loves the world so much. We will build a better life for our children.” 

The force of six set out for the Palace. They found the meadows surrounding their ship encrusted with ice, even in late spring. But the humans lingered there, bundled under furs and their heavy body hair. The elves struck with spears and stones, as Haken had once before. Haken, Sunan and Dauri led the first wave while Gibra, Tillin and Mora raced in as reinforcements. 

It had only been fourteen years since the Palace crashed. It should have been easy. But the humans had tripled in number. And they had learned by Haken’s own example that they could forge spearheads of bone and mount them on wooden shafts. The elves fought their way within a hand’s breadth of the door before they were turned away. 

“We’ll try again,” Haken said. “Under the cover of darkness.” 

And they did. And when they failed again, they charged during a dark thunderstorm. Seven assaults on the Palace, and seven failures. And then, during their final, heartbreaking retreat, Mora was mortally wounded. They carried him high into the trees and pooled their talents to heal him. But they failed, and Mora breathed his last. 

They left him high in the tree, so the roving wolves could not feed on his flesh. And they limped home to their cave. Haken couldn’t find the strength to smile when his little ten-year-old daughter raced up to hug him. 

“We can always try again,” Sunan said. But Haken didn’t seem to hear him. 

“We are the Rootless Ones, Haken,” Sunan continued. “Though we live the forest, we can always ‘replant’ ourselves elsewhere, perhaps one day among the stars.” 

Haken could only lie down on his fur bed and stare at the cave wall. What was the use of living only to die like forest beasts? He scarcely noticed the passing of the seasons, from summer to autumn to winter. He hardly ate. The others feared he was losing his will to live. 

Voll sat down next to him one day. “Father,” he began softly. “You are right. Why must we suffer out here in the wilderness? The world will change us if we let it, we’ve already seen that. But why must we let it? The Palace is lost, but we can create a new Palace for ourselves. Is that not what elves do? We rebuild, we reshape. We can build a bastion against this world’s corrupting ways – one where we are the masters, not the helpless beasts.” 

Haken rolled over and looked up at his adopted son. Tears glimmered in his eyes. “Dear Voll... how well you know my heart’s desire.” 

That spring they moved further south, towards the mountain peak on the western horizon. Its blue-gray peak always pierced the clouded sky like a shadowed beacon. In time they settled on the north-western flank, above the many natural caves and crags. Haken and Dauri pooled their rock-shaping powers and began to expand upon the caves to create multiple chambers. It was slow work at first. But it seemed that the deeper they burrowed into the rock, the richer their magic flowed. Within a few years they lived in almost unimagined comfort. The children lived together in a huge nursery, filled with exotic rock sculptures and lined with softly-tanned furs. Tillin and Sunan lifemated, and lived in a room together. Haken slept alone in the deepest chamber. 

He had Recognized all three women, but he had no mate. 

“Tillin and Sunan have mated,” Gibra pleaded. “I’m certain it’s only a matter of time before Berith and Dauri do as well.” 

“Are you so certain? I think I see Berith looking at Tillin’s boy sometimes.” 

“What matters, Haken, is that we are not meant to live alone. We have Recognized twice. We have two beautiful children together. Clearly we are well suited. Even when we stood in the circle, we were perfectly matched. Will you not mate with me?” 

“If it’s joining you seek, Gibra, then look elsewhere.” 

“Does the bloodsong not flow in your veins, Haken?” 

“Not for you. Not for anyone I have yet seen.” 

Gibra tossed her head. “You may regret your choice later.” 

“You forget that I am lord of you as I am lord of all the others!” 

Gibra drew back. She remembered the last time he had turned such rage on her: long ago in the days after the Palace’s crash. She turned her head and let him stalk off. Their tribe had made such progress in the last few years. Berith and her son Aosir were now the finest hunters of the tribe. Tillin and Vreya had designed softer, more civilized leathers, closer to the clothes the Firstcomers had worn before. Their new Palace was a success. But still Haken brooded, trapped in the nightmares of the past. 

* * * 

The day began just like any other. Haken sat in the audience chamber, perched on the little ledge he had shaped for himself. Gibra stood a few paces away, waiting to pounce on his merest wish. Then Sunan and Aosir entered the chamber with news. They had come across another elf in the course of their hunting. 

Haken glanced up as they led the newcomer into the audience chamber. It was a maiden, dressed in dark brown leathers, her face shadowed by the pointed hood sewn to her tunic. Strands of white-gold hair fell out from the hood. Haken narrowed his eyes. She seemed achingly familiar, yet different, like an echo of dream. He drew himself up from his ledge-seat, and stared into her golden eyes. They were wolf eyes. 

“Who are you?” he demanded. 

“I am Chani, daughter of Aerth,” she said calmly. “I come seeking Haken and Gibra.” 

“Chani!” Gibra blurted out. “I was there when you were born. My Voll was born less than three moon-dances later.” 

“You are Timmain’s child!” Haken raged. 

“She is the one who bore me, yes.” Chani brushed her hood back, revealing long fair hair loosely bound back in a tail. “But she is not what I would call my mother.” 

“How is she?” Gibra interrupted. 

Chani shrugged. “She spends most of her time lost in the wolfsong. She forgets half the time that she is really an elf – that she Recognized my father and bore me. Her kin are the wolfpack – her mate is a huge brown wolf. Sometimes she comes to bring us food and I don’t think she realizes that I am her daughter.” 

“Why are you here?” Haken asked. 

“Timmain wishes to turn us all into two-legged wolves. But her way is not mine. I have grown up with stories of Haken and Gibra and Vol, who all chose a different path. I come here to seek a place in your tribe.” 

Haken slowly paced towards her. He watched her eyes carefully for that telltale sign of revulsion as her gaze fell on his missing arm, the stump hidden under his little half-cloak. But he found no such disgb vvvust in her eyes. Her gaze was clear and steady. 

He began to pace around her, examining her. He saw subtle hints of Timmain in her jawline, her cheekbones, her lips. “Why should I believe you?” he hissed in her left ear. “For all I know you are Timmain’s spy. You have come to see what has become of me, and you have come to steal my followers back to your lord.” 

**My “lord” is a snarl-toothed beast! I do not follow her way. I come to follow yours. I come to learn what it means to be an elf.** 

Haken flinched at the intensity of the sending. Then he waved his hand. “Paugh. I don’t want wolf whelps in my mountain.” 

“I can hunt. I have a new weapon – a sling that shoots stones more accurately than any arm. I can teach you how to use it. I can be an invaluable member of your tribe.” 

“Timmain’s blood flows true in your veins. Your mother condemned us to this nightmarish world. She destroyed the only chance we had to escape. And she maimed me!” Now he flexed the little stump under his shoulder-cloak. “Why should I so much as offer shelter to her child?” He came around her right side and stared deep into her eyes with that glare that intimidated all of his followers. 

And then it struck. Once again the sudden urge of Recognition caught his breath. Only now it was far more powerful than it had been with Tillin, Gibra or Berith. It was something for which he had no name. 

Chani’s pupils dilated in amazement. Haken began to draw back. He knew well what would flash through her mind. She would think of his missing arm, of his miserably flawed form and she would be repulsed at the thought of coupling with him. 

**So... this is what Father meant...** Chani’s thoughts echoed in his mind. 

Tears began to well in her misty gold eyes. But they were not tears of sadness or shame. 

She was smiling. 

Haken swallowed hard. Gibra was babbling something behind him. But he didn’t hear her. He held out his hand to Chani. She took it without hesitation. He turned and led her out of the audience chamber. They exchanged neither words nor sendings as they walked to Haken’s room. 

He closed the crudely-hinged door and barred it with the equally simple wooden lock. A soft light from a bear-fat candle filled the chamber. They stared at each other for a long moment, suddenly shy. At length Chani inched forward and raised a hand to Haken’s tousled black hair. She cupped his jaw in her hands, then searched the planes of his face with fingertips. She leaned up on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the lips. 

Haken drew back, puzzled. “What...?” 

Chani smiled. “Something we learned.” 

Haken returned her smile shyly. He raised his hand to stroke her cheek, then wrapped his arm around her shoulders and drew her closer. Chani kissed him again, and Haken returned the embrace more confidently. Only now was he beginning to understand what had driven Tillin and Sunan to lifemate when a simple joining and parting of ways would have satisfied Recognition just as easily. 

As the embrace grew more ardent, Chani reached for the clasps of his tunic. Haken pulled away. “No...” he breathed. “I... don’t want you to see...” 

“I won’t turn away.” 

“You will... it’s...” 

**I won’t. I promise.** 

There was such confidence in her sending, a clarity of thought that was lacking in Haken’s tribe... the sending of an elf who knew herself, who lived without fear. 

Chani reached for the clasp of his tunic again. This time he did not draw back. 

* * * 

“Chani... she stood so proudly....” Haken’s broken narration continued. “Berith and Vreya made her beautiful gowns of fur and feathers... so beautiful... as befit a lord of our mountain. I tried to show... show her... the riches we had once enjoyed. The children... the little ones... oh, how they loved her. Everyone loved her... all but Gibra. Rage, Gibra... still you rage. But you knew you lost. I chose a mate, and it wasn’t you.” 

He looked up at Suntop, and the haze of memory misted his eyes. “We had two children – beautiful Winnowill and you, Runya. Why didn’t we have more? More – I had hoped that Blue Mountain would overflow with our fledglings. But no... no... I kept Recognizing others... children of the Firstcomers... new Firstcomers who fled to our mountain when the ice came. The ice... it came closer every year... ever year– 

“I sired ten children to women I did not love! But Chani and I had but two. No matter. I knew joy on this world. I knew peace. Peace! And pride. Pride in my fledglings... such a healer was Winnowill – so skilled that she could have outdone Aerth in skill even before the Palace crashed. Runya, you became a fine hunter and an expert rockshaper. You Recognized the daughter of Tillin and Aosir, and you had so many fine children...” 

“Humans! Humans came back... yes. And Tillin died. Tillin... I can see you... but don’t worry... we avenged you. We did! We massacred them all! All of them! But Sunan lost his love for Blue Mountain... he wanted to leave. He wanted to be Rootless again. Roam the forest – paugh! Fine, Rootless Ones. Go and die in the forest. Oh... but no... Vreya...” he held out his hand. “My firstborn... daughter... stay here. Don’t go with them. Don’t go to your death...” 

Suntop bit his lip as we watched Haken cry out to his long-dead kin. He wanted nothing more than to offer Haken a warm embrace. But he didn’t dare try to break whatever spell had hold of the Firstcomer. It was too dangerous – for him... and the others. 

“You died, Runya. Do you remember...?” Haken smiled sadly. “You went out hunting. You wanted to tame the giant hawks.... But you were too impulsive... too... too confident. You died, fighting to subdue your chosen mount. You fell... too weak to use your powers and save yourself. You died.... 

“See what comes of trying to live out there... in the dark, untrustworthy world?” he raged. “No! We have to go deeper! We had to seal out death itself. Oh... Winnowill... how your heart was broken. You could not save him... all you could do was build on your powers... build... build... so this never happens again. 

“But it did happen again!” he wept. He collapsed against the wall, and curled into a defensive ball. 

Suntop licked his lips. He couldn’t leave Haken there, frozen in his pain. So Suntop began to speak, gingerly picking up the tale. 

“They were shaping a large archway high overhead.” 

“Yes...” Haken breathed. “It would form a staircase... stairs for Winnowill. And it would connect the upper levels... with the reflecting pools. You loved reflecting pools, Chani.” 

He was silent. Suntop prompted him again. He had to take Haken through the pain. Only then could healing begin. 

“The arch crumbled...” 

“Fools! They didn’t know... didn’t sense it. Weakness in the rock. Chani!” 

“What happened then, Haken?” 

“Couldn’t move! Couldn’t breathe. Chani... she was gone.” 

“And then what happened?” 

“Winnowill... as they were clearing the rubble... she rushed in. She wanted to find you, Chani. But you were gone... gone. Winnowill poured... poured out her soul... nothing... it was too late. Winnowill healed all the injuries – for nothing. What was a restored shell without the soul?” 

“And then?” 

Haken only stared into space. 

“You came here, Haken. How? How did you come here?” 

“I spent... forever... staring... staring at Chani. One of the Preservers was there. I turned to it. I said ‘do.’ And it sealed Chani up. She would not rot. No. She deserved more. And... and I took her... I took my Chani... and I went deep under the ground. I shaped the rock as I went... for days. I travelled... forever. 

“Somehow... I came to rest here. I made a bed for Chani. I lay down on the floor... just over there, Runya. And I let Flitrin wrap me up next. And Chani and I slept together... and we dreamed...” 

Haken paused. He glanced up at Suntop “I knew no time until Blue Mountain fell and a piece of rock broke from the ceiling and pierced my cocoon, waking me from my sleep. How long in between? How long, Runya? 

“More than double eight eights times eight eights.” 

Haken laughed hoarsely. “Then the mountain fell, and a little piece of stone cut through my cocoon. I awoke... and I wept. I had hoped never to wake again. But then... oh, then, Runya, I felt something... wondrous. I felt the Palace reawaken. I felt a light beckoning me as never before. Somehow, the power of my people have set the walls of our ship afire with light – with power! Can you feel it, Runya? Of course you can. I see now you are aglow with its light.” 

Should I tell him? thought Suntop. No. No, Haken killed to take the Palace once. What would he do now? 

“Tell me, spirit... did my children thrive?” Haken asked. “Did... Winnowill? Surely you have watched over your sister. Did she thrive? Did she ever... have a child?” 

“Yes...” Suntop nodded. “She... she was the finest healer ever. She... ended all death in Blue Mountain... until in the end Blue Mountain became like the Palace, and the Gliders became deathless and birthless like High Ones. But she did have a son... a very powerful... very unique son, like none ever seen before.” 

Lies, Suntop thought. But kind lies. I haven’t the heart to give him the harsh truth. And I shudder to think what it might do to him. 

“Humans came to settled by Blue Mountain, and Winnowill and Voll tamed them into willing servants – as... they were always meant to serve us. And... she dreamed of expanding the Egg into a new Palace. She... she could not do it, and the mountain fell instead. But she came so close – so close to achieving her vision. And though her dream shattered, I think she died at peace. I have touched her spirit since then, and she is very happy.” 

“And Chani? Oh, have you touched your mother’s spirit?” 

“I’m sorry, no. I... I cannot always reach any spirit.” 

“I am a coward...” Haken breathed. 

“Don’t say that.” 

“I should have gone... gone to join her long ago. But I’m so afraid, Runya. Afraid of the darkness. Afraid that I will be lost... unable to find her. I’ve been in this skin for far too long, and I fear to cast it aside. But why life? What is the point, Runya? All my children are dead. My descendants... all wiped from the face of this blighted world.” Tears welled in his eyes. “My dream is broken. Everything is broken.” He crouched on the ground. “Is this how our quest ends? Our dream to rebuild the Palace lying in ruins, our bodies bound to this sphere of dirt and death... all darkness? Oh, Runya... I am lost. Chani... Chani.... where are you?” 

Suntop watched him retreat further into his shell of misery. He couldn’t bear to watch Haken slowly disintegrate. He couldn’t stand to see an elf – any elf – without hope. 

“Haken!” he said. “Haken, look at me. The dream is not broken. Your children are not all dead. Haken, look at me. Your grandson, Aurek lives still. He has rebuilt the Egg of Six Spheres. Did you see the other tall elves with Timmain? The winged elf is Tyldak, one of your descendants. The other is Aroree, your great-great-granddaughter. Winnowill’s son is still alive, even now he is building new tunnels underground.” 

Haken glanced up. Suntop knelt down in front of him. “Look at me, Haken. Feel my skin.” He took Haken’s hand and pressed it to his cheek. “I’m not a spirit. I’m not your son. I’m alive. My name is Suntop, and I’m your many-many-times-descendant. Your firstborn, Vreya: she and the Rootless Ones lived for many years in the forests south of here, until finally their children fled the growing numbers of humans to journeyed into a bright desert where they founded Sorrow’s End. And there they lived and thrived for ten thousand years. You are the great-great-grandfather of generations of elves!” 

Haken blinked. “How do you know these things, Runya?” 

“Because I have seen them, because I have learned them, because I have travelled the face of this world and visited all its lands. Our kind have reached a second golden age. We are free as never before.” 

“Free? And you know this?” 

**In sending there is only truth. Hear my words, Haken. Hear the truth. We thrive! All elves – those who choose this world and those who choose the stars, all live together and flourish as never before. Come out of this darkness, Haken. Come rediscover this world.** 

“The stars...” Haken breathed. “But none can choose the stars. The choice was taken away from us long ago.” 

**Limitless choices are laid before us now.** 

“But how could that be... unless the Palace is truly reborn...?” Haken stared deep into Suntop’s eyes. “Because it is reborn!” he cried as he read the truth in the youth’s eyes. “Deceiver! The Palace is whole again! The Palace is here!” 

“Haken–” Suntop began. 

Haken silenced him with a sharp bolt of magic that threw him against the far wall. Pain lanced through Suntop’s mind, shattering his concentration before he could counter with a sending star. The agony was so intense – sharper than any of Winnowill’s black sendings. The youth moaned weakly as he lost consciousness and slumped against the floor. 

* * * 

“Haken!” Timmain screamed. “No!” 

“Suntop!” Quicksilver cried. “He’s hurt! Ekuar, shape the rock. Let us into Haken’s room. Hurry – Suntop needs us!” 

Ekuar touched his three-fingered hand to the rock and it melted away to reveal the staircase leading into the lower chamber. Quicksilver sprang over the crouched rock-shaper and raced into the room, her sword drawn. She found Suntop lying against the near wall, slowly beginning to recover his wits. 

**Malin!** she called his soulname, reviving him. **Malin, are you hurt?** 

“No... no... just stunned. Haken...?” 

Quicksilver looked up. The room was deserted. There was no sign of Haken, or of the dark Preserver. The sarcophagus lid was gone, melted away by Haken’s powers. Quicksilver glanced into the deep stone casket and found it empty. 

“Where did he go?” 

“Chani!” Timmain raced to the empty tomb. “He took her! Why?” 

Quicksilver helped Suntop to his feet. “Unh...” he moaned. “He... he touched my mind, he realized I had been hiding the truth. The Palace... he knows it’s here.” 

“Why did he take the body?” Skot wrinkled his nose. “It doesn’t make any sense.” 

“He’s going to take the Palace from us,” Timmain cried. “We cannot allow him to set foot inside it. He will repeat all the mistakes of the past... and perhaps more we cannot imagine. We must return – now!” 

“Let’s go!” Suntop said. “No time to track Haken’s path through the rocks. We go back the way we came.”


	4. Mountain's Wrath

Vaya looked in on her sleeping lovemate, and found Pike still lost in a semi-conscious stupor. “So much for being our memory-keeper, huh?” she laughed, and swatted his shoulder. “I don’t know what Suntop was thinking when he told you to come along.” 

She looked up. Aurek was not at the table. Dungchips, she thought. Now that half-witted Glider’s run off. She left Pike’s side and jogged up the stairs into the night. The stars glittered overhead, while Mother and Daughter Moon hung low in the sky. By their silvery light she saw Aurek sitting on the edge of a flat stone slab, levitating the Egg just above the palm of his hand. 

“Aurek! What are you doing?” 

**No need to shout, Daughter of Snow. I’m right here.** 

Vaya trudged across the stones. “Come inside, Aurek. I can’t watch you and Pike at the same time.” 

“Then see to your lovemate. I am content to remain here.” 

“I’m supposed to be watching your back.” 

Aurek smiled up at her, his infuriatingly calm smile. “Watch for what? I have lived here peacefully for many eights of years.” 

“Well now ol’ golden-top is going to be stirring up all sorts of trouble with his mucking magic, and I have a responsibility to protect the elder – whether he likes it or not. So unless you want me to drag you back by your ears...” 

“Do you seriously expect to accomplish such a feat?” 

Vaya clenched her fists. “Don’t try me.” 

“Come, sit with me. You lovemate is safe in my home. The stars are very bright tonight. You might find them soothing.” 

“I don’t want to look at the stars. I want to–” 

“To drag me back into my home and watch me like a predator hawk while I try vainly to occupy myself with cleaning, then complain of the waste of your talents in sitting still and protecting an ungrateful old bird like myself? Now why don’t you sit down and enjoy the night air. I think you will find it a preferable alternative.” 

Vaya grudgingly sat down on the rocks. “You talk too much. At least Tyldak keeps his tongue behind his teeth more often than not.” 

Aurek’s smiled turned playful. “I spent untold centuries enslaved to the Egg, more dead than alive. I have a lot of catching up to do.” 

Vaya glanced at the Egg out of the corner of her eye. “So, you see everything in there?” 

“I record all I see in here, yes,” he corrected. 

Vaya sniffed. “So... um... my son... is he in there?” 

Aurek made a little motion with his little finger and the Egg grew to triple its former size so Vaya could better see the symbols. Aurek indicated a little starburst shape. “There he is. And there, above him –” he pointed to a shape that looked like an eight-pronged antler, “is you. And above you–” he indicated two sunburst shapes connected to each other by twisting filaments of stone, and likewise linked to the antler and the star, “are your lovemates. They are joined to each other in the bond of lifemating, and to you through the bond of parenthood.” 

“Hmn.” 

“You do not seem pleased.” 

“It’s... strange, knowing you see all this, like you’re spying on us from the treetops.” 

“Stranger than the Scroll of Colors?” 

“The Scroll isn’t an elf. And besides, I never like to think too much about the Scroll anyway. I figure I’ll understand it all when I die. But I’m not in any hurry to die. I’ve a cub to raise and a tribe to hunt for, and a lot more furs to wrestle in. I’ve never been much of a searcher like Skywise or Swift or Rayek. I like to just let things come to me. It’s easier that way – easier than going out and mucking around trying to find out what might be and missing out on all of life in between. Not that Swift’s missed out on much life – but then our chieftess has this knack for getting us into fixes that not even ol’ Kahvi could. Not that I regret leaving the Frozen Mountains – hah, I’ll follow Swift into fixes I’d never trust my mother to handle. And–” she paused. “And I don’t know why I’m telling you all this.” 

“Perhaps you were waiting for someone to listen.” 

Vaya shot him a glare. Then she glanced up at the sky. “Hnh. The stars look more like the ones I used to see from the Frozen Mountains. The patterns in the sky... they’re very different from the rain forest at the Great Holt. And there are many other stars... ones I never saw as a fawn.” 

“You are seeing the sky from a different angle. The starforms will appear different.” 

“I know that!” 

“Forgive me. I meant no offence.” 

Vaya bit her lip. She had not meant to snap. But she couldn’t quite find the strength to apologize. It would only give Aurek the upper hand in this strange game of words they seemed to be playing. 

“So... now that we have brought the Palace here... are you going to come live in it?” 

“Perhaps. I have been giving it some thought. But Blue Mountain has always been my home. You forget – I have known about the Palace reawakened for the last hundred and some-odd years. I could have called to Suntop long ago if I had felt a burning desire for it.” 

“Hnh.” 

“Something troubles you, Daughter of Snow?” 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” 

“Does it not suit you?” 

“Hnh. Anyway – what ‘troubled’ me was... well, why wouldn’t you want the Palace? I thought all the old ones wanted to return home.” 

“Old ones, ah? So that is how you see me.” 

“You are very old.” 

“True. True. And in answer to your question, I do feel a desire to walk down the Palace halls. But it does not burn in me desperately. It seems to me that if the Palace has only found me now... then it is only now that I am meant to visit it.” 

“All the Go-Backs are drawn to the Palace. We killed and we died to claim it. I almost died. I would have, if it hadn’t been for Pike and Swift. I don’t think I understand half of it. But it’s ours and I don’t think I could ever live very far from it.” 

“What use is it if you don’t understand it?” 

“It’s there. It’s ours!” 

“A trophy.” 

“What’s so wrong about that, huh?” 

Aurek shrugged. “You seek combat where I offer none, Daughter of Snow.” 

“Well, it certainly doesn’t seem like that, Egg-maker. I think you like baiting us fawns. It makes you feel pokin’ superior.” 

“Truly, I seek no quarrel with you, Vaya. I am sorry if I have offended you.” 

Vaya growled under her breath. I didn’t sound like an apology. I sounded more like another subtle point for him in this battle of words. She wasn’t very skilled in this sort of combat. The only real duel of words she ever indulged in was the assorted verbal foreplay with her various furmates and lovemates. 

Hmm.... 

Vaya changed tack, and smiled sweetly. “No, I don’t think you are. I think you like baiting me. You want me to huff and fume and go back inside and leave you all alone out here so you can play with the Egg.” 

Aurek raised a golden eyebrow. “Ah. You have me figured out, do you?” 

“You elders are just as easy to see through as anyone else.” 

“Perhaps.” 

Vaya smirked. She was not about to lose this duel now that she had him on the run. 

“Well, you’ll just have to put up with me, Aurek. Or you can come back inside where I can keep an eye on you.” 

“I prefer to stay here and ‘put up with you’ as you put it.” 

Dung, she thought. He’s not going to let me win easily. 

“Fine. Truth be told I’m getting to like this stargazing. Maybe when I go home I’ll steal some time in Eyes High’s nest.” 

“I am touched to think I have taught you contemplation.” 

She bristled. “Don’t think you can teach me anything, Egg-maker.” 

“But I am an ‘old one’ am I not? I thought Go-Backs honoured their elders and were eager to learn from them.” 

“Only until they become too senile to be useful.” 

“You thrust and parry with your words as though with a sword, Daughter of Snow.” 

“Mm, and you weak-limbed Gliders have no defence." 

Aurek settled back. “So tell me, Vaya. Why did you come with Suntop to Blue Mountain? I would have thought you would want to stay with your son.” 

“What – don’t you already know the answer? I took you for a living Scroll of Colours.” 

“I imagine life would be very boring if I already knew all there was to know.” 

“I suppose. Anyway, I wanted a little time away from the ankle-biter. Besides, I couldn’t let Pike go away by himself!” 

“And Skot?” 

“Even more reason for me to come along. Skot would get himself killed without us.” 

“So then... why are you here with me?” 

“I’m not here with you – I’m here with Pike.” 

“Then you should be at his side.” 

“But then you’d win.” 

Aurek smiled wryly. But Vaya had grown oddly contemplative. “Really... if anything Cheipar’s more Pike and Skot’s son than he is mine. I mean... I bore him... but it seems some days that he just came through me so that they could have a fawn.” 

“You care for them very deeply.” 

“It’s strange. They aren’t my lifemates – they are far too closely bound to each other. I mean – I have no proof, but I know Pike and Skot have swapped soulnames. But when I’m with them – I feel like I’m more than a lovemate. Something... in between, perhaps. Maybe one day I’ll find a lifemate – who knows, maybe I’ll even Recognize. But I’ll always be closer than friends to Pike and Skot.” 

“Because of your son.” 

“Maybe we managed to make a son because of our bond. Not that Go-Backs can’t have fawns without Recognition – but still, we can’t just breed with anyone.” 

Aurek nodded thoughtfully. 

“So... did you have any fawns in the old days?” Vaya asked. 

“No. Rather like my aunt Winnowill I never Recognized anyone.” He smiled wryly. “And unlike Winnowill, I never joined with a troll.” 

Vaya laughed. “Blech. Two-Edge. I still can’t imagine Winnowill willingly bore that crazy-brain.” 

“He’s not the monster your songs have made him out to be.” 

“Eh. I know. Rain healed most of his sickness. He’s one of your friends. But to us he’ll always be the dung-brain who can’t seem to decide which side he’s on. I’ll be just as happy if he stays put under the rocks until we leave.” 

“There is much wisdom to be learned from Two-Edge.” 

Vaya smiled slyly. “I’d rather learn from you, if I had the choice.” 

“Why do I have the feeling you aren’t referring to wisdom any more.” 

“Go-Backs have little use for that sort of wisdom.” 

“Go-Backs have little use for anything, it seems.” 

Vaya bared her teeth. “Gliders have little use for important things!” 

Aurek laughed. “You’re probably right.” 

“Then it’s a shame.” 

“Perhaps.” 

Vaya got to her feet. Aurek sat with his legs out, knees slightly bent, and Vaya stepped between his legs so that she stood a hair taller than he. Aurek looked up at her curiously. Vaya framed his face in her hands and kissed him long on the lips. 

They parted, and Vaya glanced down at the Glider. For the first time, Aurek looked visibly flustered. 

“So... the Wolfriders and the Sun Folk seemed to know all about the fun of kissing,” she said. “But the Go-Backs and the Gliders seemed to have forgotten all about it and had to be taught. Why is that?” 

Aurek licked his lips. He seemed positively nervous. “Well... as the years passed, the Gliders... abandoned the more physical forms of pleasure to concentrate on the more... mental and psychic forms of joining. I imagine kissing was probably the first casualty.” 

“And the Go-Backs?” 

“Perhaps your mother thought it a weakness. Perhaps she considered that the Go-Backs would be better served by leaving their mouths free for roasted meat.” 

Vaya leaned forward and kissed him again, a deeper embrace. “Well,” she murmured when she released him, “Pike once taught me how to do this, and I like to pass on good deeds.” 

“I... see...” Aurek stammered. 

“Well... what do you think?” 

“It’s... intriguing.” 

Vaya glowered. “Intriguing?” 

“Very... intriguing... I must say.” 

She placed a hand on her hip. “I’m used to more praise than that, Egg-maker.” With her free hand, she reached out and caught the back of his head, and pulled him against her for a third embrace. This time Aurek’s hands touched her shoulders, then seemed to clench, ever so slightly, drawing her closer. 

**Aurek! Vaya! Pike!** Suntop’s opening sending rang in their ears. 

**Dung! What is it, boy?** Vaya sent back. 

**Haken! He’s loose. I think he’s going for the Palace! Is Pike awake?** 

**Barely.** 

**Wake him up, now. Do whatever you can. We have to be on our feet. I’ve already called Skywise. The Palace will be here soon. Get Pike and Aurek inside as soon as it appears.** 

Vaya and Aurek hastily untangled themselves. Aurek got to his feet and called the Egg back to his hand. Without so much as exchanging a glance, they hurried back to the house. 

* * * 

The Palace touched down on the rocks outside Aurek’s house, and Aurek and Vaya hustled the semi-conscious Pike inside the opening Skywise created in the shimmering wall. Dewshine and Zhantee helped them pull Pike inside, and Skywise sealed the door behind Vaya and Aurek. 

“Awww... what’s going on...?” Pike yawned. He stretched. “Are we goin’ home?” 

“No, berry-guts. Haken’s loose and we have to get the Palace out of here.” 

“Come on, Pike,” Zhantee helped Pike over to a crystal-shaped chair. “Give it a moment. You’ll feel better.” 

“Where is Tyldak? Where are the others?” Dewshine asked. 

“They’re coming. Just not yet. It’s taking them a while to get up through the caves.” 

Skywise stood in front of the Scroll of Colors, his eyes closed and arms outstretched. The Palace shifted, lurched slightly, then rose off the rocks. As Vaya watched through the transparent walls, the Palace hovered above Aurek’s house, then began to soar over the western flank of Blue Mountain. 

Vaya glanced over at Aurek. The Glider blushed softly as he met her gaze. 

“Well, you’re in the Palace now, Egg-maker.” 

Pike belched softly, then shook his head. “Ohhhh... brew a milder wine next time, huh, Eggy? My skull’s ready to burst.” 

“I fear it was never meant to be drunk in ten deep draughts.” 

“Ten? Naww... only seven... maybe eight.” 

“I don’t like the idea of leaving them down there again,” Zhantee sighed. 

“If it’s the Palace Haken wants, then Suntop and the others are in no danger,” Aurek said. “We are the ones who should be on guard.” 

Now the Palace flew over the meadows lining the northern banks of the Death Water River. Just beyond the riverbank lay the sleeping Forbidden Grove, where countless Preserver cocoons still slumbered untouched by predators. Dewshine pressed her hands to the clear wall and stared out at the distant plains to the east, where she had been captured by the giant hawks over a hundred years ago. She could still remember the pain and terror as the hawk’s talons swept her up away from the family. How could she have known such an act of violence would have led to a lifemate and a wonderful son? 

The Palace wavered in the air, as if beset by a gust of wind. Dewshine glanced back at Skywise. Beads of cold sweat dotted his brow just below his faceguard. He was struggling to maintain concentration. 

“Vaya! Zhantee! Egg! Look at Skywise.” 

As Aurek turned, the Palace lurched sharply onto its side, and Dewshine went flying against the wall. For a moment she feared she would fall through the invisible barrier, but the walls held. The Palace was now swinging wildly over the Forbidden Grove. 

**Venka!** Zhantee sent. **Lifemate! Help! Haken’s trying to wrest the Palace from Skywise. Block him!** 

* * * 

“Augh!” Venka cried. She staggered and nearly collapsed on the cave floor. “Haken! Suntop, join me! We have to block him.” 

Suntop took her hand. He reached out for Timmain with his other hand. The three linked minds and shot out with a powerful sending star. They felt the star soar out from the cave tunnels, into the night sky, towards the unseen black sending star of Haken’s power. 

“Again!” Venka cried. “He’s nearly double Winnowill’s strength.” 

“What happens if Haken beats them out?” Skot asked Tyldak. 

“Then we may lose the Palace forever!” Quicksilver snapped. “And my father too!” She caught hold of Suntop’s shoulders and pressed her forehead to the back of his head, adding her strength to his. 

 

“Aieee!” Dewshine cried as the Palace bucked again. Zhantee and Aurek were holding Skywise up as he fought the unseen enemy for control of the Palace. Pike was huddled in a corner, trying to keep from throwing up. Vaya staggered and stumbled, but managed to keep largely on her feet. 

Again the Palace swung out, and as Dewshine was slammed against the wall, she saw the rapids of the Death Water River below. If the Palace crashed over the river, they would surely all drown. 

**Skywise!** Aurek cried. **Land us now.** 

The Palace bucked wildly like a single feather in an updraft. Dewshine caught hold of the chair-back and held on for dear life. Skywise was Master of the Palace, and Suntop had a psychic arsenal at his fingertips, including Timmain herself. But were they enough to overcome Winnowill’s own sire? 

The Palace tipped on its side and hurtled down into the Forbidden Grove. Dewshine screamed as she watched the trees rush up around the crystal walls. 

* * * 

Dewshine moaned softly as she lifted her head. Blood trickled down her cheek, but she wiped it away without a second thought. She looked out the clear wall. A large crack ran through it, partly obscuring her view of the densely tangled brush and tree branches. A few patches of snow lingered on the ground. Dewshine looked at her side and saw the crystal chair now growing out of the wall. It took her a moment to realize that the Palace was sitting on its side. 

She looked over at Skywise. The Master of the Palace lay on his side, moaning softly. Aurek and Vaya were already rushing to his side. Pike and Zhantee were slowly getting up off the floor – the wall, really – and struggling to orient themselves. 

“Well, we’re down,” Dewshine gasped. She wiped her face again, and blood smeared across her hand. “Skywise! Are you all right?” 

“Fine... fine,” Skywise said as Vaya helped him up. “It’s... ohh, stars! I’ve never encountered a mind so powerful.” 

“You never faced Winnowill, did you?” 

“No. Never – at least, never like that.” 

“He has all the Black Snake’s skill – and cruelty.” 

“Well, he can’t raise the Palace now,” Skywise said. “As long as we can keep him out of the Palace, we’re safe.” 

Pike leaned against the wall. “Oohhh... this is the worst hangover ever. What do we do?” 

**Quicksilver,** Skywise sent for his daughter. **Where are you?** 

**We’re coming up out of the caves now, Father. What’s happened?** 

**We... uh... had to make a forced landing. We’re in the Forbidden Grove.** 

**Everyone?** 

**A little bruised. Nothing serious.** 

**And the Palace?** 

**Likewise. A few cracks, but nothing we can’t seal up later. But, Haken – where is he?** 

**I don’t know. We stunned him with a combined sending, but he’s hiding from us now. Father – he can move fast. He might already be across the Death Water River.** 

**Can you get here on foot?** 

**We’ll be there soon, Skywise,** Suntop’s powerful sending cut in. **Hold on.** 

Aurek closed his eyes and concentrated. “I cannot sense Haken nearby.” 

“Dewshine – your forehead,” Zhantee said. Dewshine raised her hand and felt the swelling laceration. 

“It’s nothing. I’m fine.” Dewshine turned back towards the clear wall and let out a scream. 

“What! What is it?” Aurek demanded. 

“A shape... something in the bushes... startled me.” 

Aurek and Vaya sprinted towards the window. “I see nothing,” Aurek said. 

“Are you sure you didn’t imagine it?” 

“I don’t know,” Dewshine shook her head. “I saw something!” 

“We can’t just jump at shadows,” Skywise said. “Zhantee, Aurek, come here. The three of us have to form a shield-barrier to keep Haken away. Vaya, Dewshine, Pike, get your weapons out. He’s a High One, but he can still bleed. We can’t let him take control of the Palace. It’ll be as if Winnowill got her hands on it.” 

Dewshine shuddered as she drew her hunting dagger. “You don’t think...” but she pushed the thought from her mind. 

Silence hung over the chamber. The hunters paced nervously. Skywise, Aurek, and Zhantee linked hands and concentrated on the magical shield they had erected about the Palace spires. “Don’t worry, Dewshine,” Vaya said. She glanced over at the trio standing by the Scroll. “Aurek’s very powerful. He and Zhantee will help Skywise hold the shield.” 

“Oh, Vaya... if only you knew what Winnowill can do when she knows your soulname. And if her sire is indeed as strong as Winnowill – stronger – then I have reason to worry. I wish Tyldak could fly straight here.” 

“You know he won’t leave the others.” 

“I know.” 

Vaya patted her shoulder. “Just keep your ears up.” She smiled lopsidedly. “You’re the only one of us with any wolfblood left.” 

Dewshine nodded. 

“And stop staring out the window. The shadows out there will drive you mad as nutmash–” 

And Vaya turned back to the cracked window. And she let out a shriek of fright. 

Haken was standing just outside, his eyes glowing in the darkness. 

* * * 

The eight elves raced over the broken rocks towards the Death Water River. Tyldak carried the slower-moving Ekuar in his arms as he beat his wings in the night air. Aroree flew alongside him, while the others ran on foot. Timmain led the party with her long strides and desperate haste. Her eyes were distant, as if she relived old horrors with each step. 

**We’ll never get there before Haken!** Quicksilver raged. 

**We’ll get there, Khai,** Suntop sent back. **We’ll stop him.** 

**Father! Father!** Quicksilver called. But now there was no answer. 

* * * 

With a wave of his hand, Haken shattered the protective shield and opened a door in the crystal wall of the heeled-over Palace. Dewshine and Vaya lunged at him with their weapons and bolts of sizzling lightning sprang from his palm and sent them flying. Haken insolently strode over the threshold of the Palace, the large Preserver cocoon strapped to his back by gossamer webbing. Haken ripped away the straps, and the cocoon settled on the floor. 

“At last...” Haken breathed. “So easy...” 

**You will come no closer!** Skywise sent angrily, his finely-honed telepathy a burning weapon of its own. **I am Master here.** 

Haken brushed off the painful sending as though it were an annoying gnat. “You, child? Master of the Palace? You haven’t the skills of an infant.” 

Pike and Vaya mustered a second attack wave, while Dewshine cowered against the wall. Haken turned his gaze on them and they wilted instantly, falling to the floor and clutching their heads in pain. 

“You are nothing compared to me! You are weaker than humans!” Haken turned his gaze on Skywise and held out his hand to strike him next. But Zhantee leapt in front of Skywise, and his shield turned Haken’s bolts of magic. 

Haken paused, quizzical. “A shielder. So the old gifts have not entirely festered in the outside world. But do you seriously think you can stand long against me, pup?” 

Zhantee shuddered, but held his ground. 

Haken stared at him. Zhantee held the shield in place. Haken did not blink. Zhantee’s concentration began to falter. Pain crept across his features. Still the shield remained. 

“Grandfather!” Aurek called from behind the shield. 

Haken blinked. “Aurek? So the golden-haired one did not lie.” He smiled. “Good. You can help me.” 

“I will not help you destroy these elves.” 

“These... insects? They have no idea what it means to be an elf.” And Haken swept his hand out again. Zhantee’s control shattered, and the shield crumbled. The next bolt of energy struck him square in the chest and sent him flying against the far wall. 

Unseen behind him, Dewshine was slowly getting to her knees and reaching for her dagger. 

“So...” Haken levelled a glare at Skywise and Aurek. “Will you stand aside?” 

Skywise did not move. Haken narrowed his gaze. Black sendings washed over them both. Aurek staggered, but did not lose ground. Skywise set his teeth in a wolf’s grimace and held firm. The same agony that broke his hold over the Palace now intensified, threatening to undo his very mind. But not for nothing had Skywise trained for over a hundred years inside the reawakened Palace. He held his own. 

Haken held out his hand to direct the black sendings more intensely. The two elves remained on their feet. They did not cry out. 

“Impossible...” Haken breathed. “Fools! How much can you bear?!” 

Dewshine sprang up from the ground, her dagger aimed at the base of Haken’s neck. Her primal attack was clearly unexpected, and her dagger’s point even nicked the edge of Haken’s skin before the High One caught her. But Haken spun around at the last moment and caught Dewshine about the throat. The dagger clattered to the floor, stained with the High One’s blood. 

“What are you?” Haken growled. His eyes seemed to pierce to the very depths of her soul. “You are... wolf... a wolf-elf! Mortal blood! Filth!” He threw Dewshine hard against the Palace wall. 

“Haken!” Skywise challenged. He drew his own sword and sprang forward. This time his mental concentration was overshadowed by his rage, and Haken struck Skywise in his tracks with a black sending the stargazer could not counter. 

Aurek stared in horror. Dewshine was unconscious. Pike and Vaya were still twitching faintly, reeling from the effects of a black sending. Skywise was now curled in a fetal position, trying desperately to regain his strength. 

For the first time, Aurek noticed the dark Preserver who had slipped into the Palace with Haken. Haken turned to the bug. “Flitrin. Do.” 

The Preserver flew over to Dewshine and promptly wrapped her up in the silvery webbing. “All of them!” Haken snapped as Flitrin finished the cocoon around Dewshine. The Preserver dutifully began spitting a cocoon around the combined shapes of Vaya and Pike – now too weakened to fight back. 

“No...” Skywise moaned. Against the far wall, Zhantee was struggling to rise. 

“Stand down!” Haken snapped. His hair seemed to rise, as though infused with static. 

“No...” 

Infuriated, Haken seized Skywise’s shoulder. His fingers directed an intense burst of anti-healing into the palacemaster’s body. Skywise screamed in agony, and proceeded to pass out. Satisfied, Haken straightened. 

“Children, in the end. Flitrin. Do.” 

“Coming, coming, Lord Highthing,” the bug sighed wearily. It finished wrapping Vaya and Pike, then flew over to begin work on Skywise. Haken looked over at Zhantee, and another wave of black sending overwhelmed the poor shielder. Zhantee collapsed in a heap, now mercifully unconscious as well. 

“Him as well,” Haken commanded. He strode over the large cocoon of Pike and Vaya and scornfully kicked it across the floor until it rested with Dewshine’s. 

“Haken!” Aurek shouted. 

“No need to shout, grandson; I haven’t forgotten you. You are going to help me.” Haken hefted Skywise’s cocoon and dumped it unceremoniously next to the others. 

“I will not!” 

“Oh, you will, or these friends of yours will die.” 

“The Palace is meant for all elves. It is their birthright. I will not let you take it from this world.” 

Haken’s head snapped up. “Take it? I have no wish to steal the Palace. Birthright be cursed. I only want one thing now.” 

He strode over to the first cocoon, the one he had brought in with him. He clawed at the wrapstuff clumsily with his one hand. Slowly, shreds of webbing came loose. Aurek nervously tiptoed closer as Haken tore away the wrapstuff, revealing the elf’s body inside. 

Aurek gasped at the beautiful face, the long golden-white hair that spilled out of the wrapstuff to pool on the floor around her gowned body. The elf-maiden was peaceful and elegant in death, just as in life. 

“Chani.” 

Haken looked up, and his eyes were wild with delight. “Yes! Her shell is cold, but I know her spirit must dwell somewhere here, in the Palace. Now all that remains is to unite the two once more.” 

Aurek drew in a breath. “That is your plan? To bring an elf nine thousand years dead back to life? Impossible!” 

“It’s not impossible! Nothing is impossible! Time has passed her body by. It is mere moments since her spirit left it. And her spirit will return to it, and we will be reunited. You will help me do this, Aurek!” 

“You can’t!” 

“I can. I swear I will kill every elf on the face of this world if I must, but I will have Chani restored to me! Will you help me, Aurek, or must I start with your friends?”


	5. Light

The Death Water raged in rapids and whirlpools under the night sky. Suntop shivered at the cold wind. Tyldak had already flown across the rapids, bearing Ekuar and Skot, while Timmain draped an arm over Aroree’s shoulder and the Glider flew her across. Elsewhere the Death Water River was calm and placid, but the elves did not have to venture upstream to find a more suitable ford. They had to reach the Palace on the western edges of the Forbidden Grove. 

Tyldak returned, and scooped up Venka and Quicksilver. His wings flapped wildly as he struggled to remain aloft over the churning water with such weight. Suntop paced the bank nervously until Aroree returned to carry him over. 

“I can’t send to my father,” Quicksilver cried. “It’s like something’s blocking us...” 

“Wrapstuff!” Venka cried. “Haken’s Preserver must have sealed them in wrapstuff.” 

Aroree returned for Suntop and carried him across the water. The others were already sprinting ahead, and Aroree hurried to catch up to them. 

**What do we do when we get there?** Skot asked as they raced across the grassy plain. Patches of snow and ice lingered still on the ground. 

Suntop had no answer for him. 

* * * 

Aurek bit his lip nervously. How could he stall Haken? He had no doubt that his grandfather would carry out his threat to kill the helpless elves in wrapstuff. But what Haken was proposing – it was insane! No matter that wrapstuff had kept Chani’s body out of time – her spirit had been free in the Palace for over nine millennia. Such a spirit could not easily be coaxed – or forced – to accept a shell after so many years. 

“How... how do you plan to accomplish this?” he stammered. 

“Don’t be dense, boy. We have only to call Chani back to her body.” 

“But how? She has been in spirit form for so long.” 

“You don’t think she would welcome a second chance at life?” 

“There are other forms of existence than inside a living body.” 

“I won’t hear it! We used to be immortal once – truly immortal! No one ever died! No one ever had to.” 

“And no one gave birth either, Haken.” 

“Silence! You are not here to speak.” 

“What am I here to do?” 

Haken smiled cruelly. “I need someone to turn the Scroll of Colors. It has been too long since I looked into it. But you – you’ve made the Egg. You have the gift of sight – it’s as though you’ve been linked to the scroll since you were born. You can turn it for me. You can pluck out of time the exact moment of Chani’s death.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re right. Chani’s spirit has slept too long. We have to jog her memory. We will hold the moment in the Scroll, and project it into the very bones of this palace-ship. Chani will remember her death with perfect clarity, and long for life. And then I will call her back to her body and she will take it up again without hesitation.” 

“Haken–” 

“Obey your lord.” 

“You haven’t been my lord for millennia!” 

Haken’s gaze seemed to soften. “I thought you would help me willingly. I thought you would rejoice to think that your grandmother could return to us.” 

“She never left, Haken. She only took another form. She is here – here with all the others.” 

“As what? A helpless spirit? Why hasn’t she answered my sending? Why is she always just out of reach, in the shadows? Death is a curse to us – a nightmare that never ends. Helpless, blind spirits, drifting in these halls like nothing but wisps of fog. That is not existence!” 

“Haken–” 

“No! I won’t hear another word from you. If you will not help me willingly, then you will do it under duress. Now turn the Scroll! Now! Or I will start killing elves in cocoons. Which one shall I start with? I can’t even remember which one is which anymore. Maybe that one on top.” He pointed to the pile. “I think it’s the dark-skinned boy. Or perhaps the white-haired one?” 

Aurek slowly walked over to the Scroll. He closed his eyes and raised his hands. “This may take a moment. Reading the Scroll is different from reading the Egg. If you would set Skywise free, he could turn the Scroll much faster.” 

“I won’t deal with half-sized degenerates.” 

Aurek opened his eyes as the halves of the Scroll rose into the air. The light between them grew into a misty veil, then slowly resolved as a flashing series of images, all too vague to be interpreted. 

“Show me Chani,” Haken commanded. 

Chani appeared first as a little girl, a golden-haired, pony-tailed toddler. The image of her focussed, then shifted. Now Chani was a lanky teenager, her tattered leathers stretched tightly over her thorn-scratched limbs. Her little sling hung strapped to her belt. 

“Later.” 

The image changed again. Chani was a tall adult, dressed in a hooded tunic. Chani was a Glider lord, clad in flowing furs and feathers. Chani was a mother, sitting up in bed as she held her infant daughter in her arms. Chani stood on the steps of a growing staircase, directing rockshapers at work. Chani wept with delight as her son Runya handed her baby Aurek, her first grandson. 

“Later!” Haken commanded. “I cannot look at these! Show me her death.” 

The Scroll shifted again. Now Chani stood on the ground, looking up at the floating rockshapers who toiled to bridge a large archway down towards the stone bower framework. Haken watched, transfixed, as the archway began to crumble, then rained down in huge stone slabs. 

Aurek froze the Scroll’s retelling just as the shadow of the rubble fell over Chani’s body. Tears glittered in Haken’s eyes as he watched. 

“There!” Aurek snapped. 

“Not yet. Go forward. Find the moment of her death.” 

“Why are you torturing yourself, Grandfather?” 

“Do it!” 

Aurek let the action continued, slowed it down to a snail’s pace. The rocks fell, Chani was buried. Winnowill rushed forward, screaming for floaters to lift the rubble so she could find her mother. Haken edged closer to the Scroll. “Almost...” he murmured. “Almost...” 

Winnowill had almost reached Chani. They could just see her white hand through the dust and rubble. The fingers clenched once, desperately, then fell slack. 

“There!” Haken gasped. “Right there. We will send it together. We will call Chani back to her body. Picture it in your mind. Feel it in your mind! Send it out to Chani! Chani! Your lord has come back! I have the Palace at last. Come back to me!” 

The entire Palace seemed to shudder with the gasp of Chani’s final moment. Countless whispers overlapped in hisses and accusations. Aurek winced at the psychic backlash the spirits of the Palace unleashed in response of the traumatic call. 

“This isn’t working!” Aurek gasped. 

“Silence.” 

“She won’t answer.” 

“Keep sending!” 

Aurek closed his eyes and concentrated again. The last rasping breath, the last convulsive gesture, the last terrified thought of Chani, all echoed throughout the Palace walls. Now the Palace seemed to be screaming in protest. 

“Liar! Cheat! You are not giving all your heart.” 

“I am, Haken. Can’t you understand that this won’t work?” 

“Silence! No one will take her from me again.” 

**HAKEN!** 

Haken spun around. So did Aurek. The Scroll clattered to the floor uselessly. 

Suntop stood just outside the transparent wall, flanked by the other seven members of his party. With a blink of his jewel-blue eyes, the wall dissolved, and he charged into the Palace. 

“Stop!” Haken cried. “Challenge me and your kin in wrapstuff die.” He pointed at the cocoons. 

Timmain saw Chani’s body lying on the bed of wrapstuff. “What have you done, Haken?” 

“Done what you fear to! I am facing the darkness of death! And I will bring Chani back to her body.” 

“What?” 

“I will bring her back to life! I will reunite spirit and body! She will breathe, she will live!” 

“You fool!” Timmain gasped. “You blind senseless fool.” 

“You would rather leave her to rot, wouldn’t you, wolf-bitch? You would feed off her bones if giving the chance! Come a step closer and I will kill your children there.” He indicated the cocoons. “Do you doubt my powers? Perhaps a demonstration is in order?” 

Black sending tore through their minds. Tyldak and Aroree fainted dead away, overwhelmed by the eerily familiar sensation, like the most powerful of Winnowill’s “lessons.” Skot, Ekuar and Quicksilver wilted, crying out in pain. Timmain, Venka and Suntop staggered, wincing, but remained on their feet. 

“Stop it!” Suntop cried. 

“Is this enough proof? Or do you require more?” 

Venka gritted her teeth and shot her own sending star back at Haken. The stunning power that could stop Winnowill in her tracks only managed to ease the suffering for a moment or two. She mustered a second bolt of blocking power, and once again stopped the pain for only a few heartbeats. 

Timmain screamed. She could bear no more. Wispy white hairs began to sprout across her face. She snarled, and her teeth grew long and snarled. Her tunic and trousers began to split as her limbs gnarled and twisted into lupine form. 

“No...” Suntop gasped. 

Venka screamed with effort as she sent out a third bolt. But her powers were weakening. Her sending star did nothing to stop either Haken or Timmain. Midway through her transformation, Timmain leapt into the air towards Haken. But Haken only waved his hand, and Timmain went flying against the opposite wall. She struck the wall hard, and slumped to the ground. Her lupine features faded away until she was elf again, clad in tatters of her clothes. 

“Timmain!” Suntop shouted. 

“My legs...” Timmain whimpered faintly. “I... I can’t... my legs. Chani... Chani...” 

Aroree was thrashing on the ground, tearing at her cropped hair. Skot was on his hands and knees. He coughed up blood. 

“Haken!” Suntop cried. “Stop this! Stop this now. I’ll help you! I’ll help you as the others can’t. I’ll bring Chani back to you. Only stop this!” 

Haken drew back. The agony in their minds and bodies ceased. The elves collapsed to the floor in relief. Suntop pulled himself up onto his hands and knees. He met Haken’s eyes. 

“Truth?” Haken demanded. 

**I will help you. You know I can. I am one of the three Masters of the Palace. Let everyone else go. I will stay and I will help you.** 

“Suntop... no,” Quicksilver gasped. 

“Well?” 

Haken smiled coldly. “You have greater experience with the Scroll than Aurek.” 

“I can help you. I can find Chani for you.” 

“You lie.” 

**In sending there is only truth! That hasn’t changed, no matter how many years have passed.** 

“That one stays!” he pointed to Timmain. “If you can succeed where Aurek failed I might even let you heal her shattered back. If not, she dies.” 

Suntop glanced at Timmain. She lay still as if dead, her eyes focussed on the lifeless body of her daughter. Only the occasional blink gave her away. 

“But the others can go?” Suntop asked. 

Haken jerked his head towards the pile of cocoons. “Take them.” 

“Go,” Suntop whispered. 

“Suntop...” Venka breathed. 

“Go! Take the cocoons. Find shelter in the grove. Open the cocoons there.” 

Aurek hastened to lift the first of the cocoons. He managed to heave one over his shoulder and sling another under his arm. Aroree coughed, whimpered softly, and limped over to the others. She was not strong enough to lift the large cocoon that held Pike and Vaya, but Tyldak and Ekuar slowly staggered to help her. Venka helped Skot to his feet, and they slowly moved to recover Dewshine’s cocoon. 

“Go,” Suntop turned to Quicksilver. 

“No...” she whispered. 

**Please. Go, Khai.** 

**I won’t leave you to sacrifice yourself.** 

**Please. Just go. I’ll be all right. I can’t have you here too.** 

**But I’m your strength. You’ve always said that.** 

**Khai... please...** Tears welled in his eyes. **Now.** 

Quicksilver turned to help Skot and Venka. 

“No,” Haken said. Quicksilver turned towards him. 

“She stays.” 

“No!” Suntop cried. “She goes with the others!” 

“You are in no position to negotiate with me, boy! The silver-hair stays here. And if you don’t satisfy all my demands, then she dies too.” 

“I won’t help you on those terms.” 

“Then she dies now. You know I can do it.” 

Quicksilver clenched Suntop’s arm. Suntop glared at Haken. “You hurt her, and I’ll tear out your throat. You may kill me too, but I swear, you will die.” 

“Paugh! You speak like a wolf!” 

“I am a wolf’s son.” 

Haken spat on the floor. “Betray me and I will gut you like a wolf.” 

Suntop glanced over at his twin. She lingered by the last of the cocoons. “GO!” Suntop snapped. “Get out of here.” 

Venka nodded tersely to Skot. The six elves carried and dragged the four cocoons to the transparent wall. Suntop waved his hand and the door opened. The elves slipped through the opening, and Suntop closed the wall behind them. The wall became opaque. He could not bear to watch them disappear into the darkened grove. 

* * * 

Aroree and Tyldak led the party deeper into the Forbidden Grove. Dripping icicles were the only sound other than their muffled footsteps. After several tense minutes of hiking over broken branches and avoiding patches of ice, Venka called Tyldak and Aroree to rest. “We’ve gone far enough. Let’s open these up.” 

They tucked the cocoons under a large oak tree covered in frost and tattered Preserver webs. Venka drew her little throwing dagger and began to slice through the first cocoon. As she peeled away the frosty layers of wrapstuff, she uncovered Dewshine’s blood-stained face. The huntress yawned softly and blinked in disorientation. 

“Dewshine!” Tyldak fell next to the cocoon. **Lree! Are you hurt?** 

Dewshine smiled faintly. “Tyldak?” She held out her hands and Tyldak drew her up into his arms. He wrapped his wings around her and rocked her gently. 

“Your forehead.” 

“I cut it when the Palace fell, that’s all. Where... where are we?” 

“In the Forbidden Grove. You’re safe now.” 

“Uhn – who’s in this one?” Venka asked. “Skot, help me. The layers are wrapped so tight.” 

Skot helped her pull away the sticky layers. At length a strand of dark brown hair appeared. Soon he uncovered the edge of Vaya’s fur-trimmed collar, and one of Pike’s bound auburn tufts. Skot nudged Venka out of the way and tore more frantically until both elves were exposed and awakened. Vaya and Pike looked up and blinked sleepily. Skot laughed and gathered them both in his arms. “Ha-hah! I’m never letting you two out of my sight again!” 

Aurek and Aroree cut open the next cocoon, revealing Zhantee. Venka hastened to help him rise. “Oh, you’ll freeze in that tunic. We should have stolen some furs before we left the Palace.” 

“Venka? Where are the others? Where is Haken?” 

Aurek and Aroree sliced open the last cocoon, and Skywise moaned softly. “Aroree?” 

“I’m here, my little friend.” 

Skywise looked around frantically. “Quicksilver? Where is my daughter?” 

Aroree bit her lip. 

“Venka!” Skywise snapped. “Where is Quicksilver?” 

She lowered her eyes. “Back in the Palace. With Suntop. And Haken.” 

* * * 

Quicksilver sat down next to Timmain and rubbed the High One’s shoulder gently as Suntop moved over to the Scroll. He spread his arms and the Scroll halves rose and began to rotate. 

“Do you know what your daughter did to my mother?” Suntop asked Haken. The colours in the Scroll resolved into a new image. A blond elf in leathers lay helpless on a fur-covered stone pallet while Winnowill bent over her. Winnowill’s fingernails dug into Swift’s forehead and cheeks as she pouring her magic into Swift’s body. The Wolfrider was screaming, but no sound issued from her mouth. 

Suntop glanced back at Haken. “My mother is a direct descendant of Timmain’s half-wolf son Timmorn Yellow-Eyes. She had the wolfblood once, the mortal blood that links the Wolfriders to this world. I never did. I inherited my father’s immortal blood. But my mother was once mortal. Winnowill took that away. She paralyzed my mother and stole her wolfblood in an agonizing ‘cleansing.’” 

“You waste my time, boy. Your dam ought to be thanking Winnowill.” 

“Can’t you feel her pain? Look into the Scroll. Can’t you feel how wrong it was?” 

“Elves were never meant to die like beasts.” 

“Perhaps not. My mother has long since been at peace with it. And many other Wolfriders have chosen to give up their wolfblood and become changeless as the stars. But it should have been my mother’s choice! No matter that Winnowill didn’t do it out of kindness, but out of malice. Forcing your will upon others, no matter what your intentions, is wrong!” 

“I didn’t accept your terms so you could lecture me.” 

“Don’t you see? You were trying the exact same thing when you tried to force Chani out of the Palace walls. You came in here ready to blast the moment of her death into the walls, trying to flush her out like a wolf flushes out birds. How is that any different from the rape Winnowill committed on my mother?” 

“Chani wants to come home to me.” 

“Then why do you attack her with these sendings of pain and suffering? Why don’t you simply invite her back?” 

“I did! I begged her spirit to return. She wanted to – I know it! Something was preventing her. I didn’t have the power to bring her back before, but I do now.” 

“Did you even try to send to her?” 

“She will not answer me.” 

“Then doesn’t that tell you something? Haken... please... don’t you understand? Death is not the enemy... only a change... a new state of being...” 

“You say you cannot force you will on others?” Haken turned to glare at Timmain. “Isn’t that just want she did when she led them into the forest – when she mated with a wolf and created a vile half-breed – when she ensured that all her descendants would bear the stain of mortality? Did you ever sit them down, Timmain, and tell them what would become of them?” 

“Suffering... it can be a gift... a challenge....” Timmain gasped. “We had no more challenges, Haken. We were sick at heart. Haken... think. Without the pain of death and birth and struggle and survival, we would have continued on in that ship forever... Chani would never have been born. Your children would never have been born.” 

“You don’t know that! We could have lived on this world as its masters, not its slaves! We could have travelled the stars, seeding countless worlds with new life, countless worlds where we are not ghosts but rulers!” 

“You can’t understand...” 

“Silence!” Haken raged. “Or I will break your neck and leave you to suffocate. And you, boy. Bring Chani to me now, or I will strike! The High One or your lifemate? Which would you prefer I kill first?” 

“Can’t you hear yourself? Would Chani want to come back to what you’ve become? Maybe this is why she will not answer.” 

“She wants to answer me! I know she does. You will bridge the gulf between us. I will speak to her, or I will kill someone here.” 

Suntop turned back to the Scroll. He summoned up a picture of Chani, laughing and smiling. It was easy to see her mother’s blood in her. Yet her face was softer, younger looking. Her eyes lacked the sharpness Timmain had inherited after untold millennia of travels and quests. Instead they were hazy, as if just on the brink of tears. Yet she was smiling with the carefree grin of an innocent – an expression of sheer joy that Suntop knew Timmain could never achieve. 

**Chani...** he called softly. **Chani, daughter of Aerth, daughter of Timmain. I am Suntop. I am the link. Can you hear me? I offer no pain, no fear. Take my hand. Will you speak to me?** 

“Does she answer?” Haken demanded. 

Suntop frowned. **Chani... please. I am here... offering friendship and peace. Will you speak? Your lifemate is here. He wants to know how you fare. He has something to offer you – not pain, not fear. Please.** 

“Answer me, boy!” 

Suntop opened his eyes. “I hear her... like an echo. She is... alone... tired... afraid.” 

“Afraid of what?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Tell her I offer her life. Tell her to awaken!” 

“She is afraid of you!” Timmain sobbed. 

“SILENCE!! I will have Chani restored to me. You cannot stop me.” 

“In the end it is her choice...” Timmain whispered. Her eyes fell on the corpse. “That shell... is a stranger to her now. You cannot force her to take – hsss – to take it back.” 

“Her choice? She would choose life. She would always choose life. How can you tell me what she wants? You never knew her. You abandoned her to run wild with the wolves! She told me everything. She hated you, Timmain. She hated you!” 

“Leave her alone, Haken,” Quicksilver snapped. “If Chani’s all you want, then you’ll listen to Suntop, not finish old fights.” 

Haken turned back to Suntop. “You. No more delays. Call Chani to me now!” 

Suntop took a deep breath. He reached out his awareness towards the faint presence hiding among the crystal walls. Chani’s presence only retreated. Her slumbering spirit was terrified of the violence that had been committed so recently. She was not awakened sufficiently to understand. She wanted only to return to her sleep. 

_You cannot force her... in the end it is her choice..._

Timmain was right. Chani could not be forced into her body. 

And yet if Suntop failed, Haken would kill Quicksilver and Timmain. 

They could not stand against him. Haken’s black sendings were too powerful. 

Black sendings... 

Darkness... 

She is afraid of the darkness... 

“Light,” Suntop whispered. He opened his eyes. 

“What?” Haken demanded. 

“We need light...” 

Suntop closed his eyes again. He stretched out his awareness. He willed himself to find every facet of light that glinted through the crystal shards that made up the Palace. He called the light to shine out until the entire Scroll Chamber glowed. 

“What are you doing?” Haken demanded eagerly. 

He reached out further, sending out a call to the all the spirits in the Palace. **Show yourselves. Shine brightly.** 

The walls began to hum faintly. Haken watched the walls, half-intrigued, half-suspicious. 

**Shine brightly!** Suntop called, as the power of the Palace magnified the call and sent out to the corners of the earth. **Remember. All of you. Remember.** 

The humming sound grew. The walls trembled and shivered. 

“What are you doing?” Haken demanded. “Boy! Answer me!” 

_It doesn’t matter how our tribe scatters. Because the Palace is the hub of the wheel that connects all our kin. Thorny Mountain, the Go-Backs and their lodge, Sorrow’s End, the pirates on their islands, they are all spokes in a great wheel, forever spinning in an endless circle. And the Palace is the hub, and I stand at the center._

Suntop’s call touched every elfin mind he knew in the World of Two Moons. All knew what was needed, and all gave it freely. Streams of sending stars, of overwhelming brilliance, poured from the corners of the earth. Suntop heard the individual voices within the cry even as the chorus nearly overwhelmed him. From the Great Holt came Swift and Rayek and Savin, Rain and Dart. From Thorny Mountain came Strongbow, Nightfall, Teir and Ember. From Sorrow’s End came Savah and Sun-Toucher, Leetah and Windkin. Suntop heard Kahvi’s voice among the confused but willing answers of the distant Go-Backs. Savin’s pirate kin replied with strong, clear voices. And just outside the Palace came the sending stars of Venka and Skywise, Tyldak and Aroree, and all the others. 

Timmain realized what Suntop intended and sent her own strength. The entire Palace was now filled with a supernatural light. Haken was turning around furiously, his eyes searching the walls anxiously. “What is this?” 

**This is what you refused to face. You said you feared the darkness, but you saw it everywhere. You hungered to see it. But this is the truth, Haken. This is what our kind have discovered in our time here.** 

“Betrayer!” Haken lunged at Suntop. His arm was outstretched, hand poised to send his black sendings directly into Suntop’s body. 

Suntop turned to face him. His blue eyes were glowing. 

An invisible force struck Haken and hurled him across the chamber. 

The strength required for such an attack left Suntop reeling. For a moment he almost lost his concentration, and for a moment the hum resonating through the Palace walls faltered off-key. 

**Malin!** Quicksilver abandoned Timmain and raced across the floor. 

Haken staggered to his feet. He saw Quicksilver sprinting towards her lifemate and smiled cruelly. 

“Stay back!” Suntop begged. “I can do this.” 

“I know.” 

Haken unleashed a bolt of energy at Quicksilver just as she reached Suntop. She sprang behind Suntop and thrust her hands into his hair. She pressed her forehead to the back of his head, and new strength flowed through Suntop’s veins. A shield rose up to protect them from Haken’s attack. It absorbed all the hatred Haken unleashed, and transformed it into a glowing light that dispersed harmlessly into the crystal walls. 

Haken cried out in pain. His hand rose to his forehead. 

**Do you think Chani would come to you in the midst of such darkness – such fear and hatred?** 

“Liar!” Haken screamed. 

**Hear us, Haken. Hear all our voices – voices you dismissed, voices you sought to push into darkness.** 

_**STOP THIS!!**_ Haken raged. 

“If only you could see the stars... so clear on a winters’ night,” Sefra’s voice whispered in his ear. “How could you ever see them inside your mountain?” 

“The things I have learned... lessons learned at such a terrible cost – lessons cherished because of it,” Gibra recalled. 

“These tiny creatures...” Timmain’s memories whispered. “They labour and search and hunt. They flutter and twirl and hide. And yet, as the evening falls, as the sun rises, they sing.” 

“Timmain!” Haken turned his gaze on the paralyzed Firstcomer. “This is all your doing!” 

He staggered towards her. But the voices amplified in his head. The light blinded him. He collapsed under the weight of the countless sendings, the voices and thoughts and emotions of every elf who had ever lived and died on the World of Two Moons. 

“You saved us from the clawing darkness, Haken,” Sunan said. “I thank you.” 

“Give us your blessing, Father,” Vreya begged, “as we seek a new life.” 

“Vreya was my great-grandmother,” Savah whispered. “We Rootless Ones did not die as you feared, in the great outside. We thrived! We lived!” 

_The children of the Firstcomers have lived!_

“Stop it, stop it!” Haken wept. 

_We are the products of that terrible accident..._

_We will not be denied._

_We will not be forgotten._

“The Palace,” Voll breathed. “First, best home of the elves. It is so near. You will see it... seen it soon.” 

“I am your many-times-great-grandson, Haken,” Rayek said. “Your blood has peopled the World of Two Moons.” 

“A healing is needed here!” Rain challenged, the very words he had once used against Winnowill. “It have been needed for a long time.” 

“You and Timmain unwittingly bound the elves of this world together,” Swift cried. “Don’t you see? Timmain’s wolf-children, your daughter Vreya and the Rootless Ones, your children by Chani... all are bound together.” 

**All bound together, through me,** Suntop sent. **Descendant of Haken and Timmain.** 

_You must remember, Haken...._

“NO!” Haken screamed. “No. I will not listen! Stop this! I beg you.Take away this pain!” 

**It is only pain if you deny it, Haken. Accept it. Embrace what you’ve been afraid to face. Embrace life!** 

“NOOO! I cannot!” 

Suntop pressed on mercilessly. “Try to hinder this, Haken. You fear the darkness; then seek comfort in the light. Here’s too much light. Try to devour it! Try to turn it into darkness!” 

_The children of the Firstcomers have lived!_

_We will not be denied._

“Please, Father,” Winnowill’s soft voice called. “Heed the lessons I learned only in death. Light can never be kindled in isolation. And there are so many kinds of darkness.” 

“Win – Winnowill?” Haken stammered. 

_The children of the Firstcomers have lived!_

_We are the products of that terrible accident._

“I am the product of that terrible accident,” Winnowill insisted. “Will you deny me, Father?” 

_We will not be denied._

_“Father – listen! Can you not hear it?”_

_You must remember, Haken...._

“Haken...” a clear, pleading voice called from the glowing walls. “Don’t you remember? Don’t you remember how we lived? Has my lord forgotten?” 

“Chani!” Haken wept to hear his lifemate’s voice after so long a silence. He collapsed anew, sobbing. “Chani – why do you hold back?” 

“You must remember, Haken!” 

The combined power of all the elves beat down upon Haken, smothering him under the weight of their sendings. Much as Winnowill collapsed, so long ago inside Blue Mountain, now Haken wilted, his limbs slack, his mind stripped of all defences. He could only lie still on the floor of the Palace, absorbing the stream of light. 

With one final blinding flash, the connection was broken. Suntop collapsed into Quicksilver’s arms. The Palace walls slowly bled away the last of the supernatural glow. 

Quicksilver eased Suntop to the floor, lay his head in her lap. **Malin!** she sent. **Malin, can you hear me?** 

Suntop slowly opened his eyes. He blinked. **Khai?** 

Quicksilver gasped. Something like skyfire raced down her spine. 

**Your eyes... I’ve never... so deep... so bright...** 

A smile lit up Suntop’s exhausted face, and a healthy bronze glow sprang to his cheeks. 

**Recognition? True Recognition?** 

Tears sprang in her deep blue eyes. She kissed him fiercely, and Suntop sat up to embrace her. 

Only then did they remember Haken. 

He lay on the floor like a broken doll. Hesitantly Suntop and Quicksilver got to their feet. Timmain still lay against the far wall, her eyes trained on her old enemy, unable to do more. 

Suntop knelt down and touched Haken’s shoulder. The Firstcomer shuddered and drew himself up into a fetal crouch. “Go away, Runya. I can’t...” 

“Haken.” 

Haken looked up at Suntop miserably. “Was it all for nothing?” 

Suntop smiled softly. “Haven’t you learned – nothing is ever for nothing.” 

“I’ve lost everything. Everything! I haven’t even my rage left to me – only my sorrow. What am I supposed to do now?” 

“Live, Haken. Accept this world. Or else cast away your body freely and accept the world of the spirits. But don’t linger in the in-between any longer. That is the darkness you have feared.” 

“How can I live? I have nothing left.” 

“Then build something new.” 

Haken turned his face back to the cold floor. 

Suntop thought he heard a faint murmur behind him, like a waking breath. He took it for Quicksilver. 

“Chani!” Timmain cried. 

Haken scrambled to his knees. Suntop and Quicksilver spun around. A few paces away, lying atop the bed of wrapstuff, Chani was slowly stirring. Her breast rose and fell in slow, regular, breaths. Her eyelids fluttered and she moaned softly. 

“Chani?” Haken struggled to his feet. 

Chani opened her eyes. She blinked a few times to clear her vision, then slowly propped herself, moving awkwardly at first after nine millennia outside her body. She paused to draw a few breaths, then got to her feet. The train of her black gown pooled at her feet. Her long golden hair fell about her hips. She stared across at Haken, and a smile lifted her lips. 

“My lord...” she whispered. 

Haken took a step towards her, then could go no further. Chani swept across the distance between them and cast her arms about his neck. She buried her face in his long black hair and clung to the neckline of his old black tunic. Haken wrapped his one arm about her back, pressing her tightly against him. For untold moments they simply held each other. Then they touched foreheads and stared into each other’s eyes as they shared a silent sending, and tears ran down their cheeks. 

At length they turned and began to walk out of the Palace together. 

“Chani!” Timmain called. 

Chani turned and looked back at her mother. She seemed to stare right through Timmain. Then she turned back to Haken and leaned against his shoulder. He slipped his arm around her and stared at the wall. A door opened, and they strode out into the Forbidden Grove. 

“Flitrin,” Haken called. The Preserver, who had obviously been hiding somewhere under the assorted crystal ornaments, flew to join its master. 

“Haken–” Suntop began. 

The door sealed up behind them. Suntop waved his hand to turn the wall transparent once more. But Haken and Chani and the Preserver had already disappeared. 

“What do we do?” Quicksilver asked. 

“We let them go.” **Skywise, Venka. You can all come back to the Palace. It’s safe.** 

**And Haken?** Skywise’s sending asked. 

**He’s gone. He won’t trouble us again.** 

Timmain sobbed quietly in the corner. Suntop and Quicksilver hastened to her side. Suntop gently pressed Timmain’s back against the wall. **Winnowill,** he called. **Heal your grandmother.** 

A healing glow emanated from the Palace walls, enveloping the High One. When the light faded, Timmain could once again move. She straightened her legs out, then bent her knees and gathered herself into a little ball once more. “Chani...” she whispered, her expression unreadable. 

“She chose Haken,” Quicksilver said. 

Tears trickled down Timmain’s cheek. “I knew she would.” 

“What do you think they’ll do?” Quicksilver whispered to Suntop. 

“They’ll live.” 

“Aren’t you afraid they’ll try to take the Palace back?” 

“No, not really.” He took her hand in his again. **Khai.** 

Quicksilver again felt the strange frisson of skyfire in her veins, and Haken became the farthest thing from her mind.


	6. Full Circle

Skywise embraced Aroree farewell. Aroree smiled. “Take care, my little friend. Come back soon. I would love to meet the mother of your bright little daughter.” 

“I will. Send for us when Two-Edge returns from his travels. Suntop will hear you.” 

“Two-Edge will be... astounded. I only pray it gives him peace to feel his mother’s spirit at home in the Palace.” 

“Didn’t I tell you that nothing feed your soul like the Palace? No one can ever be afraid once they step through its doors.” 

Aroree looked over Skywise’s head at the glowing Palace. Suntop had easily lifted it from its side and set it right once Haken had left, and now it floated a mere hand span above the rocks outside Aurek’s house. Skywise saw the longing in her eyes. “You know, you and Two-Edge can come live in the Great Holt with us.” 

Aroree smiled again and shook her head. The light morning breeze whipped the pale gold strands of hair about her face. “No, Blue Mountain is ever my home. But I will call for you now and then, now that I know I will always be heard.” 

“No elf will ever go unheard again. Suntop proved that last night.” 

A short distance away, Vaya watched as Aurek strapped his bedroll to his back. The outlines of a few small trinkets poked through the blankets. His bright green snake coiled around his wrist. 

“You travel light, Egg-maker.” 

“Is that approval I see in your face, Daughter of Snow?” 

“Perhaps.” She fell into step alongside him. “So, how long do you figure you’ll be staying with the Palace?” 

“Until I have learned enough, I imagine. Aroree can take care of my plants. I could stay for a day or a year, perhaps more. I imagine I will right at home in the caves underneath the Palace hill. Why?” he gave her a wry glance. “Do you care what I do, Daughter of Snow?” 

“Just curious is all.” 

“Of course,” Aurek nodded with a knowing smile. He turned to Aroree. “Here.” He held out the Egg of Six Spheres. “I leave the Egg in your hands.” 

“Oh, Aurek, I couldn’t. I’m not rockshaper; how could I keep it alive with memory? The Egg belongs to you.” 

“I can always build a new one. Please. This Egg should remain at Blue Mountain. I don’t know when I will next return.” 

Aroree took the Egg hesitantly and cradled it in her hands. 

“You’ll find it carries a magic of it own. Learn from what it has to teach you.” 

“I will. Thank you, Uncle.” 

Skywise smiled and reached up to pat Aroree’s shoulder. “You’re a memory-keeper now.” He turned and saw Quicksilver slip out of the Palace door and hop down to the ground. Unconsciously, she clenched her fur parka more tightly closed against the afternoon breeze. 

“How are you doing?” Skywise asked. He held out his arm and Quicksilver drifted to his side for a hug. 

“Mm, I’m fine, Father. I little... overwhelmed.” 

“Tell me about it.” He touched noses with her. “So I’m a grandfather now, huh?” 

Quicksilver grinned. “Uh-huh. Don’t worry, you’ve got two years to get used to it before the cub makes her appearance.” 

“Her?” His eyes lit up. “You think it’s a girl?” 

She shrugged. “Suntop and I have a feeling.” 

“Suntop...” Skywise glanced over at his daughter’s lifemate, standing on a rocky ledge, his back to the Palace. Just beyond Suntop, Timmain gazed over the valley below, her long silvery-white hair blowing in the wind. 

“High One?” Suntop asked. 

“They have already left the area. I can’t hear them on the wind.” 

“Where do you think they’ve gone?” 

“Towards sun-goes-up, I think.” She glanced down at Suntop. “Will you follow them?” 

“Not unless you think Haken is still a danger to us.” 

“No. He is at peace now. He has all he truly wanted.” Sadness touched her face. “Do you think less of me, child? You call me the mother of the Wolfriders, yet I was never a good mother to my own daughter. Chani... I wish she could have understood. The winters were growing more intense – the summers shorter. I had to hunt constantly to find food for the tribe. I could only truly hunt as a wolf. And with each day I became more and more a wolf in my mind. Chani became no more than another face among my two-legged kin.” 

“It was a difficult situation for all,” Suntop said simply. 

“I wish I could have spoken with her.” 

“Would it have stopped her from leaving?” 

“No. But I might have eased the pain in my heart.” 

Suntop could find no words. Timmain sighed. “Do you know how long I have lived? The years I have spent on this two-mooned world are but one-sixth – perhaps one-eighth – of my total life. I remember when Haken was born – the last child born on our dying world. I remember when the others left in their own palace-ships. I remember everything. It was my task.” 

“I know.” 

“I feel so tired sometimes. When I lived as a wolf, I knew only the moment. The past was nothing more than a blur of practical memories – when the ice would break under my paw, the warning signs of an angry stag too strong to be brought down. The future was only the empty whiteness of a blizzard. I felt alive. Now... seeing Haken again, seeing Chani... come to life again... it is all I can do not to escape into the simple instincts of a wolf.” 

Suntop licked his lips nervously. “It would be a loss to us all, Timmain.” 

“I know. And it is for my children that I will remain an elf. I owe it to you all – to be a better mother than I was to Chani.” She glanced back at him. “You have answered Recognition’s call?” 

Suntop blushed a little. “We have.” 

“I still remember when I Recognized Aerth. It was... so... striking. If what I shared with my dear heart Adya was a soft, subtle bond, then what I felt with Aerth was as sharp as skyfire. The light struck home, then disappeared... but it left a scar. One I will always carry within me. I hope never to Recognize again. It is the least I can do for Aerth, to call him my only Recognized, since I could not call him my mate. Ah... but I watched from afar and I saw how he and Sefra became bonded mates. Aerth was happy while he lived. Yes, Suntop, I will remain in this flesh. And I will dwell in the Palace with Aerth, and Sefra... and my dearest Adya, the only true mate I will ever have. I only wish...” 

Suntop touched Timmain’s hand. “Haken and Chani are out there. There is no guarantee our paths will not cross again. You may have that chance. Just not right now.” 

Timmain smiled. “Yes, you are right.” She cast a last, longing look over the late winter landscape. “Is the Palace ready to leave?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then I am ready as well.” She turned back to face the gently floating crystal ship. 

* * * 

Suntop knew something was up when Strongbow called to him and asked for the Palace to touch down outside Thorny Mountain. **The snows fell pretty thick since you left, and we could use a change of scenery. Besides – I think we’d all like to see our family in the Great Holt... after what happened.** 

But when Suntop landed the Palace, the snow seemed no heavier than before. And there was something in his tribemates’ eyes that he didn’t quite trust. 

“Augh, it’s good to get out of these coats.” Ember tossed off her white parka, revealing a scanty deerskin dress and heavy furred leggings. “Let fly. I want to feel that deliciously stifling heat of the rain forest.” 

“It will be wonderful to see Dart again,” Moonshade said as she peeled off her fur mittens and shoulder-cape. 

After no more than an instant in flight, the Palace gently touched down on the hilltop just west of the Grandfather Tree. As Suntop led the way out the door, he was promptly attacked by half the inhabitants of the Great Holt. 

“What’s going on?” Suntop stammered as Yun caught him in a headlock, then threw him into Swift’s arms for a bear hug. 

“What do you think, cloudhead?” Swift hugged him tightly. “You think you could just rope all of us together into that sending-to-end-all-sendings and come home like nothing happened? We’re having a howl tonight, cubling!” She pressed her lips to his forehead. “My brave son.” 

Swift turned to Venka, and Rayek cornered Suntop, enfolding him in his arms. “You know how to make me worry,” he gave Suntop’s nose a tweak, then hugged him even tighter. “Sunny, sunny sun-top,” he whispered, and Suntop laughed at the endearment, one he hadn’t heard in years. 

Savin broke through the crowd and sprang into Skywise’s arms. “Stars, this is the last time you’re running off on a quest without me! Evil Firstcomers, one of Suntop’s sending calls, everyone throughout the world linked together – something I still can’t wrap my head around – not without me, next time!” 

“You were there in spirit,” he offered with a timid smile. 

“Not the same!” she cried, and kissed him long on the lips. 

Swift and Rayek embraced Venka in turn, as the other travellers scattered to reunite with their own loved ones. When a clothed Timmain and a tall newcomer emerged from the Palace, a gasp went up from the elves. 

“It’s Egg!” Pike cried. “Don’t you all remember Egg? But he’s Aurek now.” 

“Cheipar!” Vaya rushed to take her son from Wavecatcher’s arms. “Did you miss Mama?” 

“Rotten fish guts!” Cheipar laughed, an apparent affirmative, as Vaya scooped him up and set him on her hip. 

“We have a celebration tonight!” Swift shouted. 

Quicksilver drifted over to her lifemate. “Mm, we have... another reason to celebrate, too.” 

Savin, Swift and Rayek looked at her in confusion, until she touched her stomach. Whispers spread throughout the crowd of elves, then a delighted cry rose up from the elves. Everyone rushed forward, falling over each other to be the first to congratulate the newly Recognized couple. 

* * * 

The hunters had brought in two large staking birds and roasted the meat to perfection. For the traditionalists, sections of raw shagback were laid out. Newstar and her family had prepared Sun Folk stews and mixed greens. Kimo played the flutes while Pike and Skot beat on their improvised Go-Back drums. The dreamberry juice flowed freely. 

Swift turned to Rayek. “Well, lifemate, is it time?” 

Rayek gave her a wry glance. “Shall I make a rather tired joke about the Now of Wolf-thought?” 

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” she smiled, and gave his nose a little tweak. She stood up. “Suntop.” 

Suntop rose from his seat next to Quicksilver and Venka. The rest of the tribe recognized the tone in their chieftess’ voice and got to their feet as well. 

“Suntop, because of you the world is safe from Haken’s wrath, and the first elf born on this world is once again alive. You have performed nothing short of a miracle.” 

“And you have proven the full extant of your power,” Rayek cut in, “and linked all elfin minds as one. Because of you there is now nothing we cannot accomplish.” 

“And, lest we forget the smaller truth inside the larger,” Swift smiled. “You and Quicksilver have given us another gift, just as precious. In two turns of the seasons we will have a new Blood of Chiefs, and perhaps a future Master of the Palace as well. To honour all that, a new tribe name is yours. From now you are... Sunstream.” 

Quicksilver gasped, and a delighted smile touched her lips. 

“Hmmm...” Shenshen reflected. “It has a nice flow....” 

“Like it?” Skywise asked his lifemate. 

She gave him a wry smile. “I know better than to argue with the chief.” 

**Well done, son of wood and desert, moon and sun!** Strongbow and Moonshade sent. **Well done, Sunstream.** 

“Huhn...” Skot frowned. “Makes him sound a little... older.” 

“You’ll get used to the change,” Redlance said with a little wink. “I did. And you know... Strongbow was once named Fluffy.” 

Strongbow shot Redlance a scathing look. Moonshade covered her mouth to smother her giggle. 

Suntop – now Sunstream – sat down next to his lifemate. **What do you think?** 

**It’s nice... like a shaft of golden light. But I can still call you Suntop sometimes, right? That wouldn’t... violate tribe law, would it?** 

He kissed her. **Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone would hold it against you.** 

**At least Malin doesn’t change.** She kissed him back. 

He smiled. **No... some things never change, Khai.** 

* * * 

Vaya paced the bank of the river, Cheipar dozing on her hip. Skot and Pike had given the boy a little too much dreamberry juice, even if Vaya had kept Cheipar out of the more intoxicating wine. Occasionally the toddler hiccupped, then settled down again. A pace along the babbling tributary of the Green River had quieted his brief tantrum, and now he was slowly beginning to nod off to sleep. The sun would be up in a few more hours. It was time to return to the dens. 

**I hope I am not disturbing you,** Aurek’s sending touched her mind, gentle as the river’s voice. 

**No. It’s all right.** 

**How is the little one?** 

**Almost ready to fall asleep. I figure I’ll let Pike and Skot pound each other’s brains out for a while, then go back to the den once they’re ready to sleep off their hangovers.** 

**You share a den with them?** 

**We call it “treeing.” But I have a little extra room to the side so I can come and go as I please without stepping on them too much. It would just be cruel to take Cheipar and live in a different tree, and those two are far too addle-brained to raise a baby without me. What about you? Has Ekuar set you up in a nice new cave?** 

**Mm. It feels like the early days of Blue Mountain.** 

Vaya shifted Cheipar on her hip. **So what are you going to do? Learn to read the Scroll like Suntop – I mean Sunstream? That Egg must seem a little useless with the Scroll right there to read.** 

**There are many layers of truth, and many different forms for the same truth to take.** 

**Riddles.** 

**Go-Backs do not appreciate riddles?** 

**We don’t waste time scratching our brains when the trolls are massing outside our lodge.** 

**There are no trolls here... at least none nearby.** He smiled enigmatically. **Perhaps you might be interested in continuing our conversations from earlier?** 

Vaya flashed him a grin. **Depends which conversation... exactly.** 

Aurek gave her a little half-bow. “The choice, I leave to you.” 

**Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Egg-maker.** 

His eyes seemed to glow in the shadows. “I never do.” 

Vaya smiled, softer now. Cheipar stirred, mumbling assorted nonsense words. She bent her head and whispered to him soothingly. When she looked up again, Aurek was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Check out the full EQ Alternaverse at http://www.janesenese.com/swiftverse


End file.
